Undertale: The Fallen Child
by Gone and Gone
Summary: When Frisk fled to the mountains he didn't except to fall down a hole, or to find a completely different world hiding there. And now he must traverse its landscape to reach the surface again; but there's more than meets the eye in this world. The monsters he'd only heard in bedtime stories aren't as evil as he believed, and the true monster is far too close for comfort.
1. Chapter 1

Undertale: The Fallen Child

 _Disclaimer:_ _I do not own Undertale and never will; I'm merely one of the many who have fallen in-love with this game. There will be a few AU elements within this, mostly based around theories and interpretation._

Chapter One: Like a Ladybird's Child

Our story begins with a young child.

This child lived with his grandmother in a small house, at the edge a little village at the base of a huge mountain. He had lived in this village for as long as he could remember; it was a nice village that was always peaceful. The child and his grandmother lived happily here…until one day the grandmother became ill.

It happened suddenly, making a once healthy woman become bed-bound in a matter of days. No-one knew exactly what caused such an ailment; no-one knew how to cure it. And the young child was left to care for her grandmother. The child did everything in his power to help his grandmother, cooking and cleaning and fetching medicine. But with each passing day his grandmother grew weaker and weaker. Until one day…

"I'm home grandma!"

The child carefully shut the door behind him, in case his grandmother was still sleeping. With footsteps as light as feathers, he tip-toed up the old staircase; he had a small white paper bag clutched in his hands. Each step creaked much louder than they should have, whilst the rest of the house was eerily quiet. All that the child could hear was a buzzing static of an old radio, which must have been on its last legs. He could vaguely make out a song or maybe it was someone talking.

When he finally reached the top of the flight of stairs, he could just peek into his grandmother's bedroom. The child could the cream-coloured walls and the mint-green wardrobe, as well as a large bed with a flower-printed duvet cover. There was a small lump hidden beneath it, the child knew this to be his sleeping grandmother. The funny thing was that grandmother usually noticed him by now, but she was probably just tired. That happened a lot these days.

The child's footsteps were made less noisy by the floor's carpeting, so of course his grandmother would not hear him now; especially if she slept deep enough to notice him on the stairs. He had thought that maybe he should have just left her alone, but she needed to know where her medicine was. And something seemed unsettling about how still she was. He would normally hear her tossing and turning in bed, or even snoring. But in that moment, she wasn't making a single sound; however she was probably really tired. You must sleep sounder when you're exhausted.

The child slowly walked to his grandmother's bedside. There was a glass of water stood there, the glass half-empty – or half-full – and an untouched bowl of porridge that had gone cold. The child had made it for her before going on; she usually would have finished it before he got back. It was okay though; grandmother may not have been hungry. Sure the illness hadn't affected her appetite the slightest bit, but if she had been tired she might have forgotten about it. And he could always make her another bowl when she woke up.

 _Something isn't right…_

He felt a lump in his throat and a stone in his stomach. His grandmother's room was freezing cold, from where the window had been left wide open. Normally she would have shut it completely. Normally she would have been sat up and eating and talking, she would have asked him how his day was and told him she loved him. Grandmother had done none of these things. Instead she was laid in her bed, unhearing and unmoving, and deep down he knows why.

"Grandma…can you hear me?"

His voice quivered as he spoke, little hiccups between the words as he stood by her side. The child's hand shook as he reached for the duvet. He kept hoping she would wake up and say she was fine, or maybe even have it turn out to be a bit of joke. He just wanted her to move…but she didn't. Not when he slid the duvet away from her face, revealing her grey hair and that her skin was the colour of wet paper. Not a single breath left her lips, and her eyelids did not twitch or flicker.

His grandmother was gone.

The child ran; he ran as fast as his little feet allowed. He ran down the flight of stairs and straight out of the house, his heart beating in his ears. He ran through the streets with his head ducked down, ignoring anyone who tried to stop him. He ran past the village's edge and into a forest, the one that his grandmother always told him to stay away from. In fact he kept running and running until his lungs burnt and his head hurt.

When he finally stopped, the child was lost. All he could see was an ocean of towering trees, one that seemed to go on forever. It all blended together into a haze of green and brown. No singular place seemed to have any outstanding qualities that made it stick out from the rest; there was just a mass of trees and rocks. The only thing that really stood out was a mountain to the south.

He propped his back against a tree and deflated, sinking down into the muddy earth below. Big tears streamed from his puffy eyes down his rounded and reddened face, and his nose began to run as fast as he had. He didn't know what he was going to do. The only family he had ever had was…dead. He didn't really know what happened to kids without family; he knew they went somewhere else. Whenever it was, there'd be no-one to tell him stories, or cheer him up when he was scared or sad. There'd be no-one to tell him everything would be okay, even if it was a lie. He had nobody.

The child was completely alone.

"I don't know what to do," the child softly cried.

After what felt like an eternity, the child stopped. When the tears and dried and all he could do was sniffle the child stood-up, shivering from the cold. He didn't know how he would get back home, or even back to the village, everywhere looked the same. He tried walking in what he thought was the direction he'd come from, but found himself back where he started. At least it seemed that way; the mountain didn't seem to be getting any closer or further from him.

He then remembered what one of his teachers said. They told class that if they were ever lost, then needed to find high ground; that they'd be able to see where they wanted to go from there. And of course the highest ground he knew of was the mountain; the same one everyone said was cursed. The one people supposedly climbed up but never came back from. The child swallowed down his fear and started what would be a long journey.

He walked for what seemed like miles, his feet hurting and his body freezing, wishing he had brought a coat. He tripped on the roots that surfaced from the ground; he was attacked by branches that he tried to push away. And alongside all these horrible things, what little of the sky he could through the leaves had turned a dark and stormy grey. The child could feel the air becoming closer, with the echoes of raindrops hanging in the air; he needed to move faster.

By the time the child reached Mount Ebbot, he was covered in dumps and bruises. Mount Ebbot certainly dwarfed anything he had ever seen before, with its peek reaching right into the overcast sky and hiding in the clouds. There was also a path where the mountain touched the ground, giving the child an excellent way to climb it. However this path was also steep and narrow, but the child had no other choice. He was filled with determination…and a bit of self-preservation.

At first his stepped with caution and fear, terrified that a single misstep would send him tumbling over the edge. The ground below him felt uneven and uncertain, with thousands of tiny stones sat in his way; it was almost like they were waiting to trip him up. He didn't dare look down once; he knew the height would make his vision twist and blur. He was already becoming short of breath, the last thing he needed was to be short of courage as well.

He was about a fifth of the way there when he stopped. Somehow the world had darkened without him noticing, and the gloomy day had become an uttering frightening night. The glare of storm clouds still lingered; they covered the brilliant moon and stars in a curtain of bleakness. There wasn't a single light in the sky, and from what he could see, very little coming from where his village was. If he tried to go home, he'd have no way where he was. And he had no idea what creatures would be waiting for him…

No, he was going to stay up there. All he had to do was find some shelter and he'd be fine; maybe someone in the village would realise what had happened. Maybe he'd been wrong and his grandmother had just been asleep, and she'd call someone and they would come and find him. He tried to believe that was true, that when he got back home everything would go back to normal. But the as the rain began, something told him that was just wishful thinking.

At first it began as a light drizzle, with each droplet pitter-pattering against the ground before swiftly being absorbed. In matter of seconds though, the light drizzle became a full blown torrent; the water smashed against everything with force, and saturated the world until nothing could soak it up. The child's clothes became so wet that it seeped into him, chilling him right down to the core. As he shook and shivered, his fingers went numb and he knew he couldn't stay out there. Luck would give him a solution.

The child frantically searched for a cave or even an outcropping, something he could hide under. What he found was an entrance just big enough for him to use. He ducked his head down and sneaked through, his eyes only making out vague shapes inside the darkness of the cave. He could see the outline of sharp stalactites hanging threateningly from the ceiling, promising a horrible death if they were moved. There was also something long and thin on the ground, lots of them, all bunching up at a certain point.

The child had no intention of going near them; whatever was there could stay there, away from him. He had sat himself as close to the entrance as possible as well, just in case the source of the long thin shapes tried to get him. His grandmother had told him old tales of monsters, and now there were all rushing back. Versions of big and clawed hands formed in the shadows, ready to grab hold of him and drag into long-toothed jaws. He started considering leaving the cave and braving the storm.

"Don't…be…scared."

The child jumped up and looked for the voice's source, but barely saw anything in the darkness. It sounded weak and strained, and as childish as he did. He inched away from the wall with his hands clenched and twitching by his side; he didn't know what the voice was, or if anything lived up there. It could have been a monster for all he knew.

"I'm a friend." The voice continued, echoing off the walls, "I came here too...I got lost and it got cold."

"Just like me," the child murmured.

"Just like you." the voice replied, "But now I'm stuck, and I need your help."

"W-we could wait until someone comes here!"

"But that could take so long...I might not make it."

He didn't want the other child to die. He moved a few more inches from the wall, his eyes able to see the cave's inside a little better. The long and thin things were a green colour and had leaves attached to them; they were vines. But he still could not see what exactly they were gathered near.

"I-I can't see you anywhere!" The child yelled.

"If you go near the vines, you'll see a hole." the voice said, "That's where I fell."

"How long have you been down there?"

"It's...it's so hard to tell." The voice sounded weaker, "I can't see the sun from here…it's so dark and…so scary."

He felt so sorry for the other child, and that filled him with determination. He was going help them and get them out; they would go back to village and…and then maybe they'd be friends. They'd stick together and have a happy ending. He wouldn't have to alone; the other child's parents might give him a place to stay. He walked towards the vines and found the hole, which looked a bit bigger than he was expecting.

"Just little closer." the voice said, "by the way…I forgot to ask your name."

"I'm Frisk." He yelled down the hole as he looked down it, searching for the other child.

"Well then…thank you very much Frisk."

Before Frisk could notice how different the voice sounded now, he felt something slip from underneath one of his feet. One of the vines had moved. He hadn't thought something like this would happen, hadn't been prepared for it, and fell down the hole. He fell and he fell, watching as the dim light from inside the cave was swallowed up nothingness. He saw it become smaller and smaller, until there was no hope of seeing it again. He heard the air whoosh by him, and he heard his own terrified screaming. And somewhere deep in his soul, he knew he shouldn't be able to survive this.

And then he reached the bottom.

 _ **Author's Note:**_ _Hope you enjoyed this chapter and I hope you'll stick around for more. I've tried to give Frisk a bit of a backstory here, to at least explain why the heck they went up the mountain in the first place; I went with male pronouns on a whim, giving Frisk a clear gender because those reading this will know that Frisk is Frisk and a character in their own right. Not just the player avatar. I also tried to have a bit of fairy-tale/Brothers Grimm feel here; I'm not sure how well I've managed that bit. Anyway please stay tuned for the next chapter, it should be up soon!_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: And Frisk fell down

Frisk thought he was dead, but instead he awoke to a bed of golden flowers.

He remembered falling from a tree once. His grandmother had always told not to; she said he'd end-up like humpty-dumpty, and that she'd have to put him back together again. But of course he didn't listen and had put his foot on a weak branch. It broke and in the end so did his leg, it had taken a few weeks to recover. So if a fall from a tree had done that, why was he fine from this plunge?

 _I'm not going to let you get hurt…I need you alive and well._

Frisk flinched and looked for the voice's source; he didn't like how it sounded now. It was the same one that had begged him for help, but sounded so much closer, as though the child was right next to him. Frisk bolted upright and looked for them as well as taking in his surroundings; it didn't look like anything he had seen. The golden flowers looked a cross between buttercups and daisies, their light green stems very tall and thin, with each flower having a leaf by each side. They were planted in soil much darker than anything he had seen. The fact that it wasn't brown also left him confused; the soil he had seen was only shades of brown.

 _It's not like the soil from above silly, in fact nothing is really the same. Just have a look around some more._

The voice was right. Though Frisk knew he had fallen underground, he couldn't quite fathom just how far down he was. There was a beam of light shining on the bed of golden flowers, which let him see things just a little bit clearer. Looking up he couldn't see this cave's ceiling, and the hole seemed so tiny from down there too; he knew there was no way back up to where he came. The only way he could go was right, where he could just about make out a dimly lit path.

"If I stay here, someone might come looking for me." Frisk said, "They're going to know I'm missing soon!"

 _I've been waiting down here for...I can't even remember how long it's been._

"W-where are you?" Frisk flinched when he heard the voice again, "Y-you're the one who got me trapped down here in the first place!"

 _I'm really sorry,_ the voice replied in a sad little tone, _I just wanted to leave…it's been so long since I saw the sun._

"So why can't I see you?"

 _I don't know...it has been so long…years and years…_

"Are you a ghost?"

 _I think so, I can't feel anything anymore…I've been stuck here in dark…waiting and waiting for someone to come and find me._

"Then if I can hear you…"

Frisk audibly gulped and froze still, he face drained of its entire colour. Ghosts and ghouls were supposed to be things of scary stories and tall-tales; however he had no other explanation for the other child. Frisk couldn't see them, but he could hear the other child as though they were talking right into his ear. Actually maybe they were right inside his head.

"Y-you're not going to possess me, are you?" He wanted to curl up and cry.

 _Of course not, I'm your friend. I only want to get back to the surface…just…like…you._

"So why can't I see you?"

 _Because I need to stay as close to you as possibly,_ the child was silent, _unless of course you don't want to help me._

"No, no I want to help," Frisk merely murmured, "but isn't there another way."

 _I can go away if you want,_ the child offered, _I know you can get out of here own your own…and you probably have people waiting for you. For all I know, everyone I knew is…gone._

It was as though the other child's words had stabbed into heart, creating a sort of shadow of pain and a lot of guilt. Frisk could not abandon this poor child. Not in such a lonely and not when they had been left there so long, no-one deserved such a fate. He was taught between than that; a good person never leaves another to suffer when they can help. Even if said person was a ghost, who happened to be sharing your body without asking you first…and had led you into trouble in the first place.

"You said you didn't know how long you'd been here." Frisk stated, trying to sound as brave and cheery as he could, "Maybe it

hasn't been that long, they could still be waiting for you!"

 _You really think so?_

"I'm sure someone's still looking for you!"

Frisk suddenly found himself filled with strength and courage, enough to carry through the cave. He refused to let his new friend down. He stood up, feeling the damp of his over-sized striped sweater bleed into his skin, and his knees burning from the cuts and bruises he had. His legs were shaky and weak and every step he took made them feel like lead balloons; it was a surprise that he could move at all.

The cave floor was soft underneath him, as though this place had been intended to home more flowers. He saw old columns tucked away in the dark corners, coloured in a greying white and covered in long, twisting ivy of a poisonous green. Someone needed to have lived there at some point, because flower beds and stone columns didn't form on their own.

Frisk dragged his feet down the passage, until he reached an archway. It was from the same stone as the columns and with a similar style in mind, neat and elegant and rather large. Honestly whoever these were made for was far bigger than anyone Frisk had seen; this made him think back to the stories of monsters. Huge creatures with toothy grins and glowing eyes came to mind, and they terrified Frisk.

"I-is anyone living down here?" His teeth chattered, "Have you ever s-seen anyone?"

 _Yes, there are…creatures that live down here,_ the voice explained, _I have only ever seen one though…it's always searching around that hole you - we fell down._

"Why does it l-look around there?"

 _I think it knows that it's the only way in._ The voice thought for a moment, _I've never seen it do anything before…but then again I did…I did die down here._

"You died from the fall though…right?"

 _I think so, but it's so hard to remember._

So for all he knew they was something down there, with a taste for children. It could have made the crack itself; Frisk could have been just another victim for it to devour. The monster was probably as big as a bear and twice as strong. It must have had big jaws and paws, and probably had pointed ears as well; most of all it probably would be able to gulp him down in one, single bite.

"What are we supposed to do if it finds us?"

 _Don't you have anything to fight back with…something sharp maybe?_

"G-grandma never let me near anything sharp."

 _We can always run then._ Frisk thought he heard the voice huff, _Just make sure to let me take over if things get bad, after all I've been down here longer. For now we have to keep going forwards, otherwise we'll never get out._

"Okay, if you say so."

 _Don't worry friend, you can trust me,_ the voice seemed to dig into his mind, _I promise you everything will be fine. All you need to do is listen to me._

Frisk timidly hid behind one of the archway's pillars, peeking into the next area. Again it was extremely dark and there was a single beam of light getting through; Frisk thought that perhaps this hole would be within his reach. Stood in the beam's centre was a flower, much like the ones he had just seen but…something was horribly wrong. Right in the smack in the middle was a face. It was a simple face, just a pair of black, oval-shaped eyes and a huge smile.

"Well howdy there stranger!" Its voice had a strange sickly sweetness to it, like someone wanted something and needed it from whoever they were talking to.

Frisk ducked back behind the column. Flowers were not meant to talk and he should know - there were tons in his garden at home. Sure his grandmother had spoken to them, but she never thought they would start talking back; Grandmother said she simply liked airing her thought. This thing was cheerfully chirping away without any input from Frisk, as well as moving its stem and shaking about. He didn't know what to think.

"Aww come out from over there, I ain't gonna hurt you, I swear!"

Frisk waited for the voice to tell what to do, they seemed to know what was going on better than he did. But after a long and awkward pause he received nothing. The talkative plant was still bopping left to right, like an impatient child waiting to get a new toy. Other than a few rashes from stinging nettles and pricks on rose thorns, Frisk hadn't really had a bad experience with a flower. And by all appearances this one was nice. The little boy tip-toed closer to the flower; he was waiting for something to jump out of the shadows.

"Come on now, how I am meant to see you from there?" The flower smiled brighter at him, and gave him a childish wink. "Maybe you could come closer huh?"

Frisk slowly inched closer to the plant, his eyes still darting to the darker parts of the room. With his newly acquired friend and guide staying silent on this matter, all he could do was listen to his gut. Right now it was saying that whatever flower had to offer was probably better than anything else hidden there; all he needed to do was run if things went badly. Looking at the flower more revealed that its eyes held no light whatsoever, not even the tiniest spark. They were an abyss.

"Now then, ain't that better?" The flower chimed when Frisk was face-to-face with it.

"I guess." He looked down at his feet, "w-what do you want?"

"Well nothing of course." The flower answered, "It's that…well you're new around here ain't you?"

"Yea, how did you know?"

"Well, I don't think I've ever seen someone like you before." The flower explained, "And if you're not from around here, then you probably need to be told how things work. So it's up to little old me to tell!"

"Thank you…um…"

"I'm Flowey, Flowey the flower." The flower beamed, moving side-to-side, "And I'm gonna be your new friend!"

"I'm Frisk." he felt safer now, and smiled when he spoke to Flowey, "I just fell down here, there's–"

"A hole is the ceiling," the flower said, "yea we get that a lot in these parts. This is one of the older sections of the…shall we call it Underground for now?"

"Okay."

"Well like I said it's one of the older parts, and it's practically falling apart, so you probably don't want to stay here too long." The flower sounded too cheerful, "After all we wouldn't want you getting crushed to death!"

Frisk nodded his head, he was almost certain he could hear a small giggling at the back of his head. It didn't make sense really; his other new friend had nothing to be laughing about. No unless they found the talking flower as odd as Frisk did. However that still didn't explain why they weren't talking to him, but he guessed that maybe they were tired. He sure was feeling like that.

"Good." Flowey bobbed its head in the same motion, "Now then where to begin…"

And on cue Frisk felt a strange kind heat where his heart was. It was not an unpleasant feeling in any way; his physical form was unharmed, and his actual heart had remained firmly in his chest. What began to form was a mock-heart, a cute little thing coloured in a bright red, with a just tiny crack showing on its upper centre. It seemed so fragile, like a pretty glass statue to be put on a shelf and never handled. Frisk wanted to cover it with his hands, or hide it away where no-one would see it.

"No need to scared buddy," The flower exclaimed, "that right there is your soul!"

"It's my…soul?" Frisk looked at it in awe, "How can I see it?"

"I'm guessing people in the upper world keep their souls hidden away somehow." The flower explained, "But down here you can't, nope your soul is out in the open and looking to get stronger."

"I don't understand."

"Well that's why I'm here!" Flowey's grin got a little bigger, "See your soul is the very culmination of your being, and becomes stronger by collecting positive emotions, the main one being LOVE!"

Flowey winked and a circle of five seed like projectiles appeared around it. Each one was about the size of one of Flowey's petals and they were all spinning on the spot; they moved so fast it was hard for Frisk to even look at them. They started floating towards, though it a very careful and controlled manner.

"See those?" Flowey said, "Those pellets are how we share LOVE down here, so try to catch them, okay?"

It sounded easy enough to do, especially when they were moving directly towards him. Frisk stretched out his hand to can one of the pellets, his arm barely long enough to reach; Flowey's smile had turned into a smirk. As his fingers began to graze one of the pellets, it sprung to life and charged right into the little red heart that was his soul. The child heard it smash against his soul, sounding exactly like a bullet.

There was no immediate effect; it took a second or two of anything to happen. All Frisk felt at first was emptiness, robbing him of any kind of emotion that was not fear. Next was the urge to curl up and cry and yell for someone to save him. And finally there was the pain. It was an though he was burning and freezing all at once, his limbs going numb and his vision swimming as all his energy was drained from him. Frisk fell to the ground with a thud.

"What an idiot." Flowey said, his face morphing into an expression Frisk had never seen before, "It's killed or be killed down here…"

The flower disappeared into the ground, and then popped up right next to the child's body. Its roots surfaced and crawled over his arms, aiming to go right for his soul. All Frisk could do was silently watch and cry as the flower tried to take his soul, wondering why. Why had the flower tricked him?

"Now just hold still." Flower's voice had a higher pitch now, "Your soul will be very useful to me…and it's not like you'll need it."

Frisk was cold and hurt and frightened, but there was also another feeling. He couldn't explain where it came from or why; it was just welling in his chest, and burning. Frisk was never a mean or cruel boy, but right there and then he was imagining ripping the smug little weed right from its roots. He could almost feel those delicate yellow petals ripping for its face as he plucked them off, one by one. And those thoughts scared him as much as everything else.

 _Flowey hurt you…so you should hurt it!_

The voice was vicious and filled with anger. His legs wobbled as Frisk stood up, his body moving of its own accord. Flowey gave a small squeak and hid back underground, reappearing a few feet away; the flower looked at him with surprise. It didn't move as Frisk shambled towards, and it didn't flinch when he picked up a long and pointy stick. In fact the plant looked nearly happy.

"Hang on a second…is…is that you?" Flowey had dropped him sickly sweet act, "It's me Flowey, your best friend!"

"I remember you…" Frisk hadn't said that.

Frisk's face bust into the picture of a child's smile, all cute and cuddly, and two little rosy circles appeared on his cheeks. His eyes were a wide as they could be, revealing them to be just like Flowey's; all dark without a single peek of light. When he laughed it sounded mechanical, a child's toy that was meant to mimic emotion without feeling it. His hand was clenching the twig until his knuckles went white.

It looked like Frisk was about to say something – like Flowey was going to scream with joy, but they were both stopped. A ball of bright fire materialised behind the plant, its edges humming with heat and magic. The flower did not have time to hide or dodge out of the way, and instead was forced backwards by the flaming sphere. Flowey tried to find its attacker, but couldn't see it in the looming darkness; it was swiftly by yet another attack as he frantically searched.

"What a terrible creature, torturing such a poor, innocent youth…" This voice was kind and caring; it reminded Frisk of his grandmother.

Whatever had made his body move and his mouth talk, it was gone. Without warning he flopped back to the ground on his back, exhausted, and looked to his savour. She must have been a monster and yet she didn't might him scared, despite being so much bigger than him. Maybe it was how soft and clean her cream fur looked, or how open and honest her eyes were; he was just glad to see her. Sure she had claws, but they were also paws and looked as gentle as the rest of her. And the robes she wore made him think back to the kind wizards and witches from his stories. Frisk cried, but not from fear.

"Do not be afraid my child," she spoke is hushed tone and she bent down and picked him up, "I am Toriel, caretaker of the ruins…and I will help you-"

The kind-hearted monster gasped as Frisk's eyes closed, he was so tired.

 _ **Author's Note:**_ _My theory is that the No Mercy path is 'Chara' gradually taking hold of Frisk, and given what Mettaton if you just spare him, fear is part of the way they probably do that. And given that Frisk is a child and the history with monsters and humans, Frisk could be scared as heck. I'll admit the whole 'cracked heart' thing isn't my own idea; that came from 'The Clarence Principle'. If the 'hearts' in-game are meant to be physical embodiments of souls, then they will probably bare signs of non-physical hurt. I apologise for the slow boil here, and hope you'll stay tuned for more!_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Warm and Fuzzy

Under normal circumstances, Toriel would have tested the child in the ruins. She had puzzles ready for when another human child fell; she had prayed that such a thing wouldn't happen again, but obviously her wishes had gone unanswered. And the goat-like monster was now left in a difficult situation.

She held the child in her arms, pulling him close to her chest as she rushed deeper into the ruins. Her padded feet softly thumped against the ground as she ran. The child was utterly freezing and soaked to the bone; it seemed that yet again a child had been brought to her for an unhappy reason. She couldn't imagine what sort of parent would allow their child to end-up in such a state. The tiny crack in his soul also told Toriel just how deeply rooted this unhappiness was, and brought back memories.

The darkness from the previous area was gone, replaced with magical lighting that gave the place a slightly friendly appearance. Toriel had spent a great amount of time trying to create a nicer atmosphere. It had meant that other monsters lived there as well, from the chatty, green froggits to the shy and fairy-like whimsuns. All of which were more than happy to move aside as she rushed through, rather than get in her way. They all knew better than that.

Toriel silently cursed her own security measures, and her habit of making sure they were active when she left. Thing would have gone far smoother and quicker had she not needed to press those four switches, pull that lever or avoid falling through well concealed pits. She may have been the caretaker of the place but panic made her wits slower; she needed to stop and think about her next move. And every time the child twitched or whimpered in his sleep, she felt her heart nearly stop. It was all just too familiar, like a bad dream.

"You will be alright child, I promise." She said it more to herself than Frisk.

She passed through a long hallway, until she finally reached her home. Without a moment's hesitation Toriel turned the right corner and flung the door open, placing Frisk in a small bed in a child's bedroom that hadn't been used in a long time. She tried to forget why as she tucked him under a thick blanket. The child had calmed somewhat; he was still fidgeting about but wasn't making a sound, he was almost peaceful.

Toriel placed a gentle paw on the child's forehead, having to bat away the overgrown fringe that was sticking to his dark olive skin. His cheeks had gone a bit red for her liking, which she knew to be a sign of illness. His forehead blazing hot and covered in what could only have been sweat; she hadn't seen a fever like that in a while, just not long enough to make her forget. She knew how to handle it.

Toriel shot into the kitchen and found a small bowl, one without any chips or cracks. She had a pie on the work surface just waiting to be eaten; hopefully the child would want some if, no when he got better. She ran the tap until it was icy cold, and then filled it up as far as she could without risking any spillage. She also grabbed a flannel for one of the cupboards and flung it in the bowl, then returned to Frisk's bedside.

She sat there by his with the patience of a saint, wringing out the rag and placing it over his forehead. She repeated this process when the rag became too dry. Toriel had thought about trying to use magic to cure him – or medicine, but was fearful of how a human would react to either of those things. Last time something like this happened nothing worked; she had been left drained and hopeless as…

 _No, this child will not die._

She spent hours there, her eyelids heavy with tiredness; every so often Toriel would drift off only force herself awake. She heard the clock on the wall ticking and thought it sounded slow and sluggish, with each second taking too long to pass. She kept looking to it thinking hours had gone-by, only to discover the taller hand had barely moved. The child's fever hadn't cooled down much either. Unlike the time though there were more visible signs of things getting better, for one thing his cheeks were nearly back to their normal colour. But he had started talking in his sleep again.

"Grandma, where are you?" He twisted and turned, his eyes scrunching up as he dreamt.

In his mind, Frisk was caught in a type of limbo, a mixture of his home and the world in he had fallen into. The room he was looked like his grandmother's, the same cream walls and mint green wardrobes. But it had all been stretched curved until the walls towered over him. And her duvet no longer had the flower print; instead it was covered in long green vines and roots. Red roses were replaced with bright yellow and golden flowers, and one in particular had grown right in the centre.

"Looks like you're a little lost!"

Its cheery face began warping and changing, the simple smile became a little droopy and softer. The eyes went from long ovals to a more rounded shape, gaining hoods and wrinkles; both eyes now had a pair of crow's feet. Finally the flower grew a long, hooked nose. Under normal circumstances that face would have made Frisk feel at ease, but not when he knew the true nature of the creature wearing it.

"Maybe I can help you, dear."

"Go away!" Frisk yelled, "That's not your face, stop wearing it!"

"Now, now dear…that's really no way to talk to a guest." The flower was even mimicking her voice, "Why don't you go back to sleep?"

"Stop it!"

The flower's face began changing again, keeping all his grandmother's features, but allowing them to become mockeries. The long smile melted until rotted teeth were shown and the eye became unbalanced, with one stretching longer than the other. The mass of vines starting shifting and moving; they wrapped around each other, entwining into two long arms with pointed fingers. These spidery limbs slowly reached of the child.

Frisk heard the door slam behind him. He clawed at it, trying to reach a doorknob that was just out of this reach, jumping to try and get a grip its dull grey surface. When that failed he pressed himself against the door, hoping he could just sink into it if he pushed hard enough. He felt something smooth and cold coil around his leg, tightening around it with great strength. He was knocked over as the vines began dragging him closer.

The nearer he got to the grinning menace, the more of its appendages grasped hold of him. Both his ankles had been caught, as had his elbows and neck. Frisk tried to dig his fingers into the carpets under him, but it didn't work; the fibres were no longer rough and rigid. They were longer and thinner and green, weak enough to be plucked from their place with no effort at all.

"Let me go!" Frisk screeched.

"Now, now no need to be afraid." The plant's voice was distorted, splitting into two and giggling, "I just want to give you a hug!"

The withering worms of plant-matter parted at their certain, revealing a hole darker than the night sky. The flower laughed and Frisk screamed as he was pulled into the tear; he tried to rip away the vines, but felt pain when he touched their stems. They were covered in glass thin needles, like those found on a stinging nettle. The laughed when he cried out in shock.

"Oh don't be so silly Frisk, this won't hurt a bit!"

The vines that dragged him loosed a tiny bit, just enough for something else to grab him. They were small hands that looked exactly like his; in fact they were covered in an eerily similar sweater. Sure it was green instead of purple, but the material was the same and so was the fit. Frisk was gently brought into the darkness, and placed in front of another child.

"Don't be scared…it's just me." The child spoke without moving their lips.

This other little one had cute smile on their face, and rosy cheeks that seemed a bit too circular. As though there were falsified with some kind of paint. In fact the whole face seemed off, too pale, too smooth and a bit too flat, with their eyes shown as two black pits. Like eyeholes in a porcelain mask. Their head was oddly angled and moved in an inhuman way; slowly bobbing side-to-side with all the watchfulness of an owl.

"You haven't forgotten me, have you?" The voice was sunny, which was unfitting for the situation, "Or your promise?"

"Of course not, though it'd be easier if I knew your name." Frisk noted that the other child shambled towards, which was a way of walking he had only seen in old monster movies. The child's arms didn't even move as he walked.

"It's really hard to remember." the child was standing face to face with Frisk, appearing the taller of the two, "I've been down here for so long…so long since someone talked to me…so very long."

"Then how did the talking flower know you?"

"I said I don't remember." The child sounded happy still, but their words were quicker, snappier, "Maybe I meant it somewhere else…I don't know."

"But you said you died where I fell."

"That doesn't mean I died from the fall." the other child replied, "I could have died from being attacked, that little weed did nearly kill you."

The child's face was still fixed in the same expression, whilst Frisk's was far more downcast. He had nearly died to what he assumed was a weak monster; he had no chance against anything more powerful. Though in his defence he trusted Flowey, and that was a mistake Frisk didn't plan on repeating. And there were nicer monsters on there, like the one that'd saved him.

"Look we both want to leave this place." The child said, "So we need to work together, which means if things look bad…I have to take control."

"Like you did with Flowey?"

"Yes Frisk because when I take over…it means we don't have to risk your soul." The other child explained, "And as long as your soul is intact, you'll be safe."

"But doesn't that mean you'd die instead?"

"That's a risk I'm willing to take…you're my friend."

The words sounded honest and that filled Frisk with a glowing warmth, and determination. Determination that they would both make it back home, whatever awaited them both when they reached it. Frisk didn't know exactly what would happen when he got back home; he had no idea where his mother was, or anything much about her. He did not know what would happen to the other child either, and something told him that asking might not be a good idea.

"Now you'll have to wake up soon, and I'm not going to be able to talk to you much." The other child said, "But if things get bad, I'll be right here."

"Thank you."

And with that, the darkness and the child had faded away as crescents of light opened. Frisk was warm and safe, with a wonderfully soft pillow underneath his sleepy head and a thick blanket wrapped around him. He always managed to make a little cocoon for himself when he slept. However he knew this was not his bed; the mattress was like a marshmallow, and he sunk down into it. Normally he bed had a little more bounce to it.

The walls around him were defiantly not what they should have been either. They were covered in patterned wallpaper, with vertical stripes of red and white. The wooden panel floor had a fuzzy carpet of similar design, whilst Frisk's room was much calmer in colour and design. He generally slept better when things were less active. There was a tall lampshade in the corner near his bed, and a smaller one on the opposite side of the room. Why anyone would need to lampshades in one room was beyond him.

Despite the internal protests, Frisk gradually got out of the bed. His feet nearly touched the floor when did; everything showed the room must have been a child's, there were even a few stuffed toys in a chest by the end of the bed. The monster that saved him must have had a child at some point. Frisk guessed that maybe the child was older now but she didn't look very old, or at least Frisk didn't thing she did. She did not have any of the tell-tale signs of age that he'd seen, she had no wrinkles or grey hair or anything like that. So where was the child?

His thoughts were stopped when he smelt something sweet in the air. A couple of curious sniffs revealed a scent he vaguely recognised, it made his stomach rumble loudly. His last meal seemed like so long ago. With all the caution a hungry child could have, Frisk snuck over to the edge of the carpet; the monster had left him something. Perfectly placed on a delicate bone-china plate, like the kind he wasn't allowed near, was a piece of pie.

This wasn't the shop brought kind that had a good chance of going soggy or being too hard, no it was something special. The puff pastry had been baked to golden brown, with no burnt bits he'd have to scrape off; it looked fluffy and crisp and he started to understand what it meant to 'eat with your eyes'. Part of his didn't want to even touch it, it nearly looked too good to eat…nearly, but his stomach had a better hold of him at that point. He inhaled the tasty treat without pause; it didn't have a chance to turn the sides of his mouth and he hadn't really taken in the flavour. Frisk felt bad about that, with all the effort it took to make, he'd just scoffed the pie.

With his meal eaten and little else to do, Frisk stared at the room's door, which was also painted in a fire-engine red. He had no clue if he was supposed to stay or go and thank the monster who'd fed him. All he really had to do was wait; since the monster had been kind enough to leave it for him, she'd probably also be nice enough to come and check up on him. Also she'd probably want her plate back it, preferable unbroken and without chips or cracks.

Every tick of the clock on the wall was as slow as a slug, and sounded like a chiming bell. He could have played with some of the stuff toys, but none of them held his interest. In fact there was a distinct part of him that loathed them, they were childish and goofy and were absolutely boring. Sure he had toys at home and some of them were stuffed, but they were way more fun…and they were his. His old and half torn teddy bear was his and his alone; those toys belonged to someone else, who must've have loved them a lot with how clean and uninjured they were.

Frisk looked around the room more. He opened the oaken wardrobe and looked inside, finding shirts, sweaters, shorts and pants all hung up neatly. Some of them had a thin layer of dust forming on top. They were all about his size, he was now certain that another child must have lived here at some point. The knowledge that they would fit him made the child all the more aware of how his own clothing felt. Everything still felt cold and smelt of dampness, despite how warm eating the pie had made him; however he wasn't going to steal from the monster that had helped him. That was wrong and did not show any gratitude, his grandmother would have been ashamed.

He was lucky though, the monster had left him fresh clothing on chest of drawers. Upon examining them Frisk found they looked just like the ones he was wearing; she would've had to have done that on purpose. There was an odd happiness in his chest, because whoever the monster was, she really seemed to care. Why she cared about him was a mystery; bar his grandmother and maybe a friend or two, Frisk didn't know anyone who really cared that much. And he was a complete stranger to her!

It was the exact opposite of what Frisk had read about monsters. They were supposed to be big, scary and ready to eat humans up in one huge gulp. Yes the flower had tricked him and attacked him - and would probably haunt him for life, but the other monster hadn't. She'd saved him and from what he recalled, had looked about as scary as a sheep or, considering the horns, a goat. Had everyone who had written the books just been wrong about the monsters, and forgotten to mention the plants?

He kept thinking about this as he changed into the warmer and dryer clothes, which fitted him perfectly. Left with little else to do and having fully explored the room, Frisk walked to door and stood in front of it. He thought about just calling out to see if the monster heard him; that would have been the simplest answer. And yet a little but persistent voice in the back of him mind told him to leave, to see exactly what was inside the house. Children can be curious at times, and Frisk chose that moment to be a littler bolder than he normally would have been. He grabbed the doorknob and gave it twist; in response the door squealed open.

 _ **Authors Note:**_ _I know things do not go exactly like this in-game, but I'm also pretty sure that most folks who read fan-fiction are not opposed to things being mixed-up a bit. I wanted to try and give Toriel some character development and show that Frisk is a child; a terrified and hurt child, but a child all the same. Maybe I've done that and maybe I haven't, either way stay tuned in and enjoy!_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Home Sweet Home

The house reminded Frisk of a story he had his grandmother read to him. Everything seemed to be on a single floor, with all the bedrooms gather in the east-wing and everything else probably to the west. The entryway did have a staircase but a quick look down revealed only darkness; he didn't think anything homely lurked down there. He did not go to the west side either, because he knew the monster was there.

Instead he went back to the bedrooms and walked to the very last room. He knocked on the door once, then two and then thrice, waiting for an answer from the other side. When he got nothing as a reply he checked to see if it was locked; when it turned out the home's owner hadn't locked any of the doors at all, he crept inside. The colour scheme was the complete opposite of the room he had woken up in.

The room was plastered with blue wallpaper, the sort of calming and pretty blue that never made a room feel hot or cold. It lacked the fun patterns and pictures of the wallpaper in the previous; Frisk found this change preferable, it made everything feel much less busy. The bed in the top left corner had a similar colour scheme and was bigger than a twin bed, but not quite king-sized. He couldn't remember what came between the two. On the desk was a small black book. The child knew he should not nose about in other people's possessions; however he thought that maybe it would reveal a small clue to the person who had helped him.

What he discovered was a planner, filled with jokes and puns. The kind of puns he'd found in Christmas crackers and on ice-lolly sticks; there weren't the worst, but they were close. The monster had a questionable sense of humour, but the reasoning for them being written on each date alluded Frisk. It wouldn't have been a surprise when she saw one, since they were handwritten, the monster had really good penmanship. Some part of Frisk absolutely hated it though; some part of him wanted rip out the pages one-by-one and throw them out the window. And yet he never had such violent thoughts and feelings before.

Confused and a bit disturbed, Frisk put the book down quickly and exited the room like the floor was on fire, only to knock into the home's owner. Frisk picked himself up from the floor and looked at her; even then it felt like she towered over him. However her height did not make her frightening, and he horn atop her head weren't twisted or pointed like the monsters from his old storybooks. In fact she didn't appear threatening in the slightest…then again the same had been true of Flowey.

"There you are my child." Her voice sounded sweet and kind, though a bit worried, it reminded Frisk of his grandmother, "I was just wondering where you had gone."

"I'm sorry." He said, looking down at his feet sheepishly, "I-I know I should have stayed in my room…"

"It is all right my child." She patted him on the head with her soft paw, ruffling his hair a little in the process, "This place is new to you, and you were merely being curious."

"So you're not mad at me?"

"Well of course not my child." She said, "I should have known you would want to take in your surroundings."

"I am sorry though."

The monster laughed, though not the mocking or mean sort laughter, and took the child's hand. She led him down the long hallway; it seemed a bit bare to him, with little to no pictures on the walls. His house always had a lot of framed pictures hanging up. Sure it looked tidier not having such things on the walls, but it felt rather empty, like the place had no personal history. And he hadn't seen a single photo of the child that was meant to live there.

"I forgot to ask, but who are you?" Frisk asked.

"I am Toriel." she smiled.

At the end of the hallway was a cosy living-room, with cream coloured walls and a roaring fire. When Toriel let go of his hand, Frisk immediately rushed to sit in front of it and stuck out his hands so they could get warm. Despite having been curled up in a bed and wearing a set of dry clothes, his hands were like a couple of ice-cubes. His skin instantly felt toasty with glowing flame just a few inches away. And then he felt the monster's soft paw on his shoulder, pulling him back just a tiny bit.

"That is not very safe," Toriel said, "you could get burnt being so close to the fire, and then what would we do?"

Frisk nodded and moved himself away from the flames a little more, nudging himself right into the large green armchair that the monster was sitting in. The monster sat comfortably in the chair, a pair of golden-framed reading glasses perched on her muzzle and a book held in her hands. There were a couple of books laid out on the coffee table next to the armchair, which told Frisk she must have been consumed books at a high rate. The tall bookcase filled to the brim with volume-upon-volume of hardbacks and paperbacks. Frisk recognised some of them, though their spins were damaged and looked a bit strained. They were well-loved and well-used.

"Would you like me to read one of them to you?"

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Frisk had fond memories of a soothing voice reading to him when he couldn't sleep at night.

"I would not offer if I did," Toriel chuckled, "now you can go and pick one out."

Frisk ran to the bookcase and studied each and every tale on offer. One was called 'Ways to Cook Snails' and made him feel like gagging just a bit, he'd heard of people eating them but personally would not touch them. They were far too slimy. Another was titled 'The Hobbit', a story his grandmother read to him many times before and it started with a little hole. Another book that caught Frisk's eyes was one the tippy-top shelf. Bigger than the others, bound in a leathery material with a deep green colour; the title said 'The History of the Underground'.

"Could you read me that one please?" He pointed up to the historical volume.

"It seems a little big." Toriel looked at it, wondering if something else would be better. "It will take us a very long time to finish…"

"Oh…right…"

Frisk hadn't given a thought to time. He needed to go home at some point, he had made a promise to his new friend and…he still had school and…two friends who were probably worried about him. Honestly he knew going home was a goal somewhere down the line, but Toriel's kindness made him feel loved. Here Frisk had a home and someone who would take care of him; on the surface there was only uncertainty.

 _But you promised me._ A voice whispered in his ear, _I mean…You wouldn't go back on that…would you?_

Toriel felt unsettled by his silence, and down cast expression pulled at something buried deep in her chest. She did not understand why a child would want to be read something so dense and dry, and yet she could remember another who loved hearing the history of their world. And another who listened to her weave their truth with unblinking eyes and a small smile. Toriel herself could not think of the last time she had read it; there was always something else on a lower shelf that she reached easier.

"We do not have to read it all in one sitting."

She slowly got up from her chair and stretched her long up, her paw feeling around for it. Toriel looked to Frisk as she began pulling out one of the books, waiting for him to tell her if it was right. He shook his head at the first attempt, as well as the second and third but nodded with her fourth try. The book felt heavy in her paw, it width barely fitting in the appendage; it also seemed to have been jammed in a very tight space. But with time, patience and some elbow grease, the book soon popped out.

Toriel settled back in comfy chair, with the book in her hands and Frisk sitting on her lap. She opened it up with a long creek and flipped to the first page; the title was print in bold letters and centred. The page after than had no writing there, and next ten or so pages were all about the writer and why they wrote the book. The history of a history book, it almost seemed funny when she thought about it.

"Long ago, two races ruled over Earth; one was known as humans and the other monsters…"

Frisk sat in silence as he listened to her every word, enraptured. He'd heard a version of this story before; one that many other human children were told, one that no-one really believed anymore. However even the beginning was a little different. The version he knew talked about how humans had ruled, how monsters had simply appeared out of nowhere. It said that humans allowed to monsters to live there.

"One day, war broke out between the two races and after a long battle, the humans were victorious…"

On the surface it sounded the same, a war between humans and monsters. But again something had been changed; the tales he'd been told spoke of a monsters hurting humans first, giving the humans a reason to attack. In the version his grandmother told, the monster were merciless and able to kill many, many people. Here there was no reason given, just a war and no mention of what started it or why.

"The human sealed the monsters underground with a magic spell, one they created for just such a purpose..."

The human's version of this tale ended with the monsters all dying, at the hand of some great king with a powerful sword. The king did have the help of a magician, who forged him a powerful blade with magic stronger than anything anyone had ever seen. And with the slaying of the monsters, the king was crowned and ruled his lands for many, many years. The tale had been crafted to sound like just that, a fictional tale to put children to sleep with. It was a fairy-tale that couldn't be even the slightest bit true. That's why no-one believed in monsters anymore. How could they when all they knew were children's story built to sound like lies.

Everything else became static on a radio as Frisk realised the deception humans had created. Toriel hadn't noticed the child's distress, having become wrapped up in a book she knew off heart but hadn't read in a very long time. Knowing how things ended, having in fact lived through such history, it felt bittersweet at best and plain old sad at worst. And yet sharing history with someone else seemed right. However when the first chapter ended, she knew it would be best to stop there; the others were much longer and much more complex.

"Would you like us to stop for now?"

"Okay…" Frisk murmured.

"Is something wrong?"

Between the differences in how they told events and having to figure out a way to get to the surface, Frisk wasn't sure what to say. The reason why the history humans and monsters told had so little in common seemed obvious, even a child could have figured it out. Frisk also did not want to come across as ungrateful by asking Toriel when he was going home, that wasn't going to be easy. He'd have to climb up from inside the mountain to get there and…if his friend told the truth some monsters were mean.

"No…no I was just thinking!" Frisk faked a long smile and forced his voice to sound as cheerful as he could.

"What were you thinking about?"

"How I'll get home." Frisk couldn't lie to her, at least not completely. "I don't think I can go back the way I came…"

Toriel's heart squeezed and it felt like a stone had lodged itself in her throat. She knew the truth all too well; if Frisk left the Ruins, then he would most certainly die. What awaited him outside that safe haven was a monster who wanted him dead, and those who were probably willing to deliver the child. Some of them might have been willing to do the deed themselves; she knew the strange flower-like creature wasn't dead. It hadn't turned into dust. The world outside was far too dangerous for one so unprepared.

"I promise you I will find a way to help you," she smiled but hated herself for such an empty promise, "but for now you are welcome to stay here."

"…Thank you…"

"If you want, I can show you around the ruins." Toriel offered, "There is a great deal you do not know about our world…it might help you to have a better understand."

"…Because that way I can get home easier?" Frisk perked up a little.

"Yes of course, my child."

Toriel placed a blindfold over Frisk's eyes, took hold of his left hand and guided him out of the house. Frisk had no way of knowing where he went; he didn't try peeking under the blindfold, because that would've been dishonest. The ground beneath his feet felt solid and smooth, much more artificial than where he previously had been. He could hear tiny voices in the background; their tones and vocal ranges were all unfamiliar, reminding him of the squeaky faked voices of a puppeteer.

"Who's that?" Frisk asked.

"You…you will find out later, my child."

She removed the blindfold, and Frisk came face-to-face with a rather odd dummy. The thing looked a little sad really, its head lolling downwards and a shiny button-eye nearly falling off its squishy, featureless faced. The sack cloth material keeping the stuffing inside had been stitched and stitched; the poor dummy really needed some new skin, and a less wonky stand. However other than being horribly depression to look at, the dummy appeared to hold no obvious purpose.

The room they were in didn't make a great deal of sense either. The smoothed stone walls were covered in torches', like the final scene in a movie where the hero faces off against the villain. And it was certainly large enough for some manner of grand duel, with clashing blades and cunning wizards. However the dummy took centre point; that defiantly did not appear to be a suitable villain for a last test. Then again, Frisk realised, he may have been looking at things the wrong way; a hero doesn't fight a villain with a stick.

Toriel observed what Frisk did, which amounted to simply staring at the dummy. She could have told him the manner of this training right off the bat, and yet she wanted to know what his reaction would be. The others had all reacted differently; the girl with the glove had punched and kicked at the dummy, stated that's what a dummy was meant for. The boy book had just kept waiting, claiming it had to be a trap. The girl in the tutu had danced around it, and the boy with a frying pan had tried to cook a meal for it.

And Frisk, in all his strange patience took in everything around him. The dummy did not look like a typical training dummy, one too many hits and it would fall to pieces. His only weapon was a stick and – despite all the similarities – this didn't seem like the usual training for a would-be warrior. Toriel didn't fit into the aged mentor mould, too nice and kind and gentle; Frisk had seen her use magic, but even then she appeared too sweet for that. It all brought Frisk back to that once simple question, what was he supposed to do?

"I don't understand." Frisk murmured, feeling stupid and embarrassed by his own confusion, remembering the reaction of his teachers when he asked too many questions. "Can…can you explain, please?"

Frisk's reaction was a double-edged sword. On one hand Toriel had a bit of pride in the fact he willingly asked her for help, but the shamed-face head-hanging made what she did seem unfair. She had to see what sort of character Frisk had, however she had abused trust in a sense; withholding information from a newcomer was unneeded. Especially with what awaited him if she let him leave…

"Well my child, I want you to talk to the dummy."

"Excuse me?" Frisk really couldn't believe what he heard.

"You will face many things on our journey." Toriel explained, "Some of them will appear far more frightening than they truly are, if you can learn to speak with others then can show them you are as harmless as them."

"But…it's a dummy…" Frisk didn't know how to react anymore, "it won't respond to anything I say!"

"I will be here to observe your actions."

 _Just go along with what she says for now_ ,the other child said, _all you have to is talk to a dummy._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: Learning to Speak with Them

It reminded Frisk of when he was forced to read aloud, making him a little nervous. He started off by trying talk about the weather, but found himself stuttering and forgetting his words. Something about those shiny button eyes just staring at him made the boy want to run away. I could almost hear the taunting laughter of his schoolmates in his ear; he could see the teacher's disdainful glances, telling him to hurry up.

But this was just dummy, an inanimate object that lacked the ability to be judgemental. Even if the flickering flames from the torches gave the sack cloth creature the illusion of life, Frisk knew it couldn't see or hear him. And the thing still made Frisk want to look down at his own feet in shame, thinking he had wasted the dummy's time. Nobody like having their time wasted; Frisk had been told so many times to either speak-up or shut-up. Children were meant to be seen and not heard, especially when they had nothing important to say.

 _We could just try destroying it…just one well-placed stab and the test is over, she'll know you can take care of yourself._

Frisk felt his left arm twitch of its own accord, his hand gripping the pointy stick just a tiny bit tighter than necessary. In his mind, Frisk saw himself lunging at the dummy and whacking it with his 'weapon' until it fell to pieces, the button eyes still looking into him. He felt his heart hammering from the adrenaline, despite having done nothing, and excite fill him; those were not his own emotions. Frisk never took pleasure in hurting people or damaging things, the worst he even done was accidently kick a football through a school window. And he had felt terrible afterwards and told one of teachers. This meant the joy he felt was not his own…

'Stop that…please,' Frisk scolded the other child, 'we don't need to do that, all we have to do is talk…'

 _Then talk to the dummy, dummy!_

The other child sulked and sounded angry, making Frisk flinch. This in turn made his tongue twist even further; Frisk stuttered and kept stopping in the middle of sentences, as the other child tried to end things quicker. To an outside observer Frisk simply appeared to be a nervous child, with the arm's movements looking like a tick. Toriel felt bad for making the child go through this, but in long run it would help him. If he managed to leave the ruins he would need to know what to do, maybe then he'd have a chance.

"S-so the w-weather down here is nice…" Frisk tried mimicking the small talk he'd once heard his grandmother make to the postman, "It's pretty w-warm, even without the sun."

The dummy's head slid to the side as Frisk spoke those last words, as if responding to him. Frisk couldn't be certain, but the black button eyes looked sad, they had become less shiny and one seemed to drooping down the dummy's face. It looked like the thing had started crying. Suddenly Frisk realised the creatures living underneath a mountain may not have seen the Sun before, or at least in a really long time. Maybe reminding of that would be a bad idea; he needed to change the topic.

"S-so are there any other dummies down here?"

"A few…"

Frisk though he was imagining the dummy talking, after all it didn't have any lips it could use to speak. He guessed that the dummy probably got there the same way he did; some of the people living the near the mountain had funny ways of getting rid of trash. He had once overheard a lot of commotion about some black trash bags in a nearby river, because whoever tried dumping them hadn't weighed them down right. He never knew why someone would've thrown rubbish in the water, and his grandmother didn't want to talk about it. So maybe someone tried dumping some dummies down the hole he fell into.

"How'd you get down here?" Frisk asked.

"I live down here…"

"So the monsters made you." The dummy didn't give an answer this time around, "I'm sorry, was that the wrong answer?"

The dummy slid across the stone floor, which shouldn't have been possibly given the lack of limbs. Its attempt at an escape hurt Frisk a little; even a dummy didn't want to listen to him, he was so annoying even the inanimate wanted to get away. However the beaming smile on Toriel's face lifted his spirits a little, obviously he had done something right. Even if that something turned out to be annoy the enemy away.

"That was good, my child." Toriel said as she embraced him, "Do understand what you must do when you encounter my kind?"

"Talk to them," Frisk answered, nodding his head vigorously, "talk to them and everything will be fine!"

Frisk knew what the other child thought of that. Despite the lack of communication, Frisk could feel an intrusion on his thoughts, a bitter laughter at Toriel's statement. He tried not to dwell on it too much, and yet the memory of Flowery forced Frisk to mistrust what Toriel said. Still he followed her and she guided him to next part of this test; the dummy had somehow disappeared into thin air at this point, like a ghost. How could a solid object simply dissipate like that?

"Why did that dummy move?" Frisk as they walked through the next room.

"I…do not know," Toriel replied, "it has never done that before and had it tried to do you harm, I would have defended you."

Frisk grinned before his attention got caught by an odd noise, a deep and drawn-out thing with a slightly squeaky end. It sounded like a frog and if there were frogs then there had to be water, which must've come from above. Or at least that's how Frisk thought it worked. And with this assumption in mind Frisk quickly ran towards the source of the noise, with Toriel too trusting of the child to notice his change in direction straight away.

Frisk chased the noise back down the hallway, his little booted feet tapping against the stone ground as he ran. He soon found the source of the noise, with the other child whispering in the back of his mind to go back. The other child said that whatever was there wouldn't be worth it; that he couldn't handle whatever happened to be there. But as they passed ancient columns and creeping ivy, Frisk refused to turn around. For all he knew, this could be a chance to get back to the surface. And the creature there technically was a frog of some description.

Much larger than the average amphibian, the creature stood at nearly the same height as Frisk, maybe even bigger. Its skin had bright, crayon green colour with a smooth shine; its lips were turned into a frown and its bright yellow eyes were downcast. It reminded Frisk of a puppet he seen on television, one who sang about a rainbow. However this frog looked utterly miserable as it turned around and hopped further down the hallway, which made Frisk feel want to help the creature. After all, the frog-like creature must have had a hard life to be so sad.

This made the child approach the creature, albeit with a sense of caution. He'd seen enough regular sized frogs devour their prey whole to realize the potential danger involved, and he didn't want to be someone else's meal. Frisk tip-toed towards the large frog-like creature, trying not to startle the poor thing as he tried to make his presence known it as quiet of a way as possible. However being meek was not the best way to catch someone's attention.

"Excuse me," Frisk said, "are you all right?"

The creature turned to look at him, little hiccups leaving its throat as it tried to speak. Its voice sounded high-pitched and a little childish, it must have been a child. There were long rivers of tears running down the monster's rubbery cheeks; Frisk had been told they couldn't cry, because they didn't have tear ducts. If he hadn't figured out the frog-like monster was not a frog before, Fisk certainly knew it now.

"Yes I'm…" The creature's already wide eyes became dinner plate large, "A-are you a human?"

 _Lie,_ the other child whispered in his mind, _lie or we'll have to fight it…and I'll have to kill it._

"N-no, for course I'm not human!" Frisk gave the creature a forced grin.

"Then what kind of monster are you?"

The monster drew closer, until the space between their faces measured at less than an inch. The creature squinted at the child; this monster had lived in the ruins all its life, and could admit it didn't know every single kind of other monster. Still it had never seen another creature with such oddly coloured flesh, only heard of them from its elders. Having had his personal space invaded, Frisk tried leaning back only to have the creature follow his moments. So Frisk leaned back more and more, until he eventually fell over; the creature took its chance to ensure Frisk wouldn't get away.

The monster pounced on Frisk and pinned him to the floor. Its face barely touched Frisk's nose, its yellow eyes glaring right into him and a fierce face pulled as its lips took on a sour expression. Frisk's heartrate increased and the representation of his souls began enlarging and shrinking in time with it, making a brass low drumming sound. In response, the creature made a low sound with its throat, like the buzzing of an angry wasp. Its lips kept on curling into a pout, which would have been humorous in any other situation.

"What kind of monster are you?" The creature repeated; the words sharp and snappish.

"I…I'm…" Frisk said the only words he could think of, "I'm a homo sapien!"

The creature bobbed its head left-to-right; it had never heard of such a monster before. However it had never seen a human or any kind of monster that didn't live in the ruins, so it believed what the 'homo sapien' said. Muttering an apology, the monster swiftly jumped off of Frisk with its head hung in shame. If its mother every found out, she'd be very angry. The young monster wasn't supposed to try and jump on anyone; it was too rash and foolish, just like father kept saying.

"Why are you crying?" Frisk asked, sounding concerned.

"N-no r-reason…" The creature's words came out in tiny hiccups as the tears bubbled down its rubbery cheeks, "I-I just don't feel very happy right now."

If Frisk had been one to hold a grudge, he would have left the creature there to cry alone. He would have reasoned that since the frog-like monster had attacked him, he shouldn't have cared; like Flowey said it was kill or be killed. And yet Frisk did not feel enough anger to leave the monster on its own. He'd seen lots of other children crying on the playground at school and had wanted to help them but never knew what to say, so he would finally try doing just that now. The words couldn't have been far away.

Frisk plopped himself down beside the crying monster, careful to leave some space between them. He didn't like people crowding around him, so he assumed others didn't like it either. The ground he sat on felt hard but nearly as cold as Frisk expected. In front of them were a waterfall and a lake, the beginnings of which were station so high up that he had no hope of seeing them. So there went that idea for getting back to the surface. The water looked clear and crystal clear, with small pebbles at the lake's bottom helping to keep it clean. Around the edges of the water sources were small blades of dark green grass and what looked like mould. It reminded Frisk of scene from a book; a hidden grotto where treasures were buried.

"I'm sorry you're not happy." Frisk

"Why are you saying sorry?" The monster sniffed and hiccupped, "It's not like t-this is your fault."

"I…I guess because I feel sorry for you." Frisk tried to explain, "I mean you shouldn't be sitting here crying alone, no-one should."

The monster snuffled in reply and shuffled a tiny bit closer to the human child. Frisk began to slowly place an arm around the monster's shoulders, just too sure completely sure the monster understood what he was trying doing. With no objections being raised, Frisk initiated the semi-hug; the monster gave him a curious look, but didn't move. It felt nice that someone, even a complete stranger, wanted to cheer the monster up. The tears still fell but the tremors in its voice had lessened.

"I-I'm sorry I attacked you," the monster murmured, "that weren't very nice of me…"

"You didn't hurt me, so it's fine!"

"Thanks, you're really nice." the monster said, "My name's Darty, Darty Frogart and I'm a Froggit…I live in Ruins."

"I'm Frisk and I…I just moved here." Frisk

"I haven't heard anything about a new family moving in." Darty said, "I-I'm sure the other monsters here would love to meet you all!"

"I...I didn't move here with my parent." Frisk barely remembered his mother, she was a vague voice singing a half-recognised song, and "I…Toriel adopted me."

Darty had no reply for that, other than an urge to back away from his own words. Orphaned child monsters were rare in the current generation; monsters lived long and peaceful lives on the whole. The oldest of the Froggits sometimes spoke of monsters the younglings didn't know; they always seemed to deflate when their talked about 'old friends', and the families those monsters left behind. Frisk might have been one of the types of monsters with a very long life span; youth to him could have been old-age to others. That's probably why Toriel adopted him.

"Well, at least she's really nice." Darty's lip stretched into a smile, "She can be a bit scary sometimes, but she's always been kind to everyone living here."

"Toriel's been great…but I don't plan on staying here very long."

"Where will you go, do you have relatives nearby?"

"They're a bit far away." Frisk said, "But I can't just stay here, I promised someone I'd go home."

"Well I'm sure Toriel will be willing to help you!"

"I certainly hope so," Frisk nodded, "I need to get home soon."

The two went quiet, as the sound of water crashing against solid ground filled the gap. Even in his small village, the sound of cars and airplanes were never out of hearing range; down there the lack of background noise was strange. That wasn't to say the peace was bad, just very different from what Frisk lived with. It made every noise he heard louder, which explained how he heard the footsteps from so far away. He saw a tall shadow stretch across ground, with two pairs of wicked horns long and pointed and large and clawed paws.

His heart jumped into his throat and the not-heart on his chest started beating very fast. A yellowish light flickered behind him, and he could feel the heat from its source on his back; if the fire touched him it would probably burn him to a crisp. Frisk imagined a pair of eyes as intense as hot coals, with teeth like a bear-trap and a laugh as cold as ice. He imagined a monster, one of the monsters from a story his grandmother read, and his body went ridge with fear. He didn't want to turn around.

"I-I'm s-sorry," Darty stuttered, "I-I d-didn't mean to make you mad!"

Frisk saw Darty curl up from the corner of his eye. The boy knew whatever stood behind him must have been terrifying, a monster that killed other monsters; it was a monster serial killer. His left hand tightened its grip on the pointy stick, as Frisk felt the other child clawing at his mind with fury; not that it would do much good. A stick could be easily snapped into pitches, so what good would it do against the leathery hide o the creature behind him?

"Please do hurt my friend." Frisk said, finding the courage to speak at last, "H-he hasn't done anything wrong."

"Are you sure my child?" Frisk knew that voice, "You seem rather scared."

Frisk turned around slowly, the figure behind him turned out to be Toriel. Soft-furred and kind-hearted Toriel; her shadow still looked the same as before, it hadn't just been Frisk's overactive imagination, and hovering above her opened paw was a little ball of fire. It twisted and danced in the air; unlike the majority of the fire, it appeared to have no source and it did not produce any visible smoke. He also couldn't smell the tell-tale scent of burning, and in fact he couldn't smell anything from the fire.

"I'm not, I promise," Frisk replied, "I was just talking to Darty."

"Oh, you have already made a friend!" Toriel gave a radiant smile, as a weight disappeared from her shoulder, "Well it is very nice to meet you Darty…I apologise if I frightened you child."

"I-It's n-nice to meet you too…"

"I do hope you have had a nice day, though your mother was looking for you not too long ago."

Darty muttered something under his breath, and then gave a tiny croak in reply and hopped away. His jumps were small but with a lot of bounce in each movement. Frisk gave him a half-hearted wave; the monster child hadn't bothered looking behind him, Darty knew his mother had a few reasons to be cross. He would have another chance to talk to the new monster later, when he hadn't hopped out of the window in anger.

"I am glad you made a friend my child," Toriel began, "but perhaps next time you should not worry me so by running away like that."

 _ **Author's Note:**_ _Sorry for the delay, things have spiralled a wee bit during the last couple of months. However I should be back on track now, unless something else comes up and blows my schedule to tiny little piece…again. Thank you to those still reading, I appreciate your patience and hope you enjoy this chapter._


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: The More We Learn

 _ **Author's Note:**_ _Due to me being a dingus when it comes to cross-posting formats, Chara's dialogue and any other internal based speech will be indicted with '' from now on. I should be updating a bit more often now as well, with you-know-what no longer hitting the fan. That's all for now folks, hope you're still enjoying!_

Frisk had to hurry to keep up with Toriel, with her strides being much longer than his. He had been so used to his grandmother needing support when she walked, that the idea of Toriel accidently losing him because of his lack of speed unnerved him. He remembered how one of his friends talked about losing his mother in a store once; she'd gone to look for something and her son had her in a sea of people. Frisk losing sight of Toriel would have been much worse. He was certain he'd seen a bright yellow flower…

"Are you alright my child?"

'Don't you dare tell her about Flo- the flower monster,' Chara screamed into his skull, 'she'll be even less likely to let us leave if you do!'

"I-I'm fine, no worries over here!" Frisk shouted, with faux happiness rather obvious.

"Are you sure?" Toriel stopped walking and knelt down to his level, "Only, something seems to be bothering you Frisk."

"You said you'd help me get home," Frisk blurted out, "but you haven't said how or when."

"I will explain everything to you when the time is right." Toriel said, "And part of that judgment is that I know you will be able to handle what lies beyond these ruins."

That ended the matter, although the downcast look on Frisk's face. As bad as Toriel felt just looking at that face, she refused to sugar-coat the truth; Frisk needed strength and wisdom if hoped to reach the surface. Determination would get him far, but not far enough if history was anything to go by. Toriel would not allow for another tragedy to happen. She kept walking down the long hallway, putting as much distance between herself and Frisk she could. He would have to be much more powerful to get home, and all power came with a price of some sort.

'She's lying you know.' The other child whispered, 'She won't let you go….she'll keep you here like a prisoner.'

"But she just said-"

'Grown-ups always say that sort of thing…they say everything will be alright….that they'll let you go as soon as they think it'll be okay…'

"S-stop it, you're scaring me." Frisk murmured.

'Human or…monster…they are liars Frisk, they're all liars and you can't trust them!'

"That isn't true." Frisk wanted to yelled and scream, "There are good people, Toriel is good and my grandmother never lied to me."

'Did your grandmother tell you she was dying?' The other child waited for a response, 'I thought not…they lie Frisk…they lie because they think it's 'for the best', because they think the truth will hurt too much.'

Frisk's mouth had dried and his stomach was filled by lead. In the back of his mind, the idea of another person being able to dig through his memories seemed wrong. However the other child's statement stabbed right into his heart (not the one floating near his chest), and made everything feel worse. His grandmother wasn't coming back; she hadn't told him what would happen when she died. Did he have some kind, little-known relatives waiting for him, or would be thrown aside and forgotten?

"Who lied to you?" Frisk asked as Toriel kept walking ahead.

'...I don't remember.' The other child replied, 'There were a lot of them, but I can't remember names or faces…that's what happens when you linger too long.'

"Then why are you lingering?" Frisk thought, "I mean something must be making you stay here."

Frisk was met with disheartening silence. Frisk had heard that lack of words before; there'd been a girl alone in the library with a black-eye and her head to the ground, her jaw tightly clenched. He asked her why she seemed so upset, only to receive a glare and a huff in reply. Later that day Frisk found out she'd gotten into a fight with another child. He didn't know who started or why, the whole thing turned into a tangled mess in that regard, he just knew the girl refused to talk about.

'I don't remember that either,' the other child finally answered, 'it's a….a feeling, something keeping me here.'

"Can you remember your own name?"

'Chara, my name is Chara.'

It was a short and strange sort of name, which rolled off the tongue. Frisk couldn't think of a time he'd heard that such a name, although his name wasn't exactly common either. Frisk thought he should have asked sooner, but it still sounded weird to ask such a question to something in his head. He acknowledged Chara as existing not too long ago, simply because he had no other answer for Chara. At least now he had a name for the voice, he had a word to yell when things got too much or when things when the silence filled the world.

"Chara…" Frisk repeated, letting the name slide out of his mouth as he pronounced each letter carefully.

"What did you say?"

Frisk hadn't noticed that Toriel had stopped in her tracks; honestly hadn't been paying much attention to anything outside his own head. That's trouble with living inside your mind too much. Frisk finally faced her and saw wide-eyed shock plastered on her face, and he was almost certain her fur paled a couple of shades. Chara mentioned her previously, so the two must've known each other. The question was, exactly how…

"I…I said…" She would have answers, but Frisk didn't need to give her another reason to keep him in the ruins, "Can ya….as in can ya believe how high the ceiling is, I can't even see it!"

"Do they not have high ceiling on the surface?"

"I can still see them, but I can't see the ceiling here." He answered, "I mean…that's what the top of a mountain is called when you live inside it, right?"

"I believe that is one way to refer to it, yes," Toriel mulled over his question, and why she though she heard him say a certain name.

She had heard that name so many times, her own brain dragging up memories she only wished to leave buried. She recalled another human child who had fallen into the underground, who she thought had said that name as well. In fact Toriel seemed to have imagined all the human children saying the word Chara at some point; perhaps it came down to guilt or a similarity in those children.

Neither of them said another thing as they kept walking, passing by a half ruined pillar. Frisk pondered why the monsters seemed to have created so many of them, when they didn't appear to serve a purpose. This one wasn't holding anything. However its ruined nature did not detract from its beauty, with detailed cravings of almond-shaped leaves etched onto its base. Had more monsters lived there previously, or had Toriel made them all by herself?

"This place is really big for just you." Frisk said, "I mean I guess the froggits must live here too, but where are they?"

"They live here and there." Toriel's voice barely was barely audible, her eyes looking elsewhere, "They much prefer to be closer to water larger bodies of water than what is found in the ruins, those living here do so out of…well I am not truly sure why."

"Is it obligation?"

"Excuse me?"

"That's…that's what my grandma used to about our neighbours." Frisk looked to his feet, "They didn't stay because they liked where they lived, but because they were…obligated to. S-she said s-something about a…an old relative."

"I do not believe there is anyone they are obligated to stay with."

"Are they your friends?" Frisk peeked up to face her, "b-because maybe they don't want to leave you here all alone."

"That…could be part of the reasoning." Many of the older froggits knew who she was, and might have felt the need to stay close by, "However froggits to do live like you or me, I've never seen one in a house that was their own."

"So they're homeless?"

"No my child, they simply prefer living in open."

"Oh…I heard a couple of people talk about people like that."

Frisk pretended to understand what she meant, though really he couldn't fathom what sort of person chose to live like that. He'd come to the conclusion that monsters were people rather quickly; it made sense in his mind. People were humans but not animals, despite him hearing that humans were animals, because people went to work and wore clothes and live cities and alike. Sure not all people did that, but they at least did one of those things

As near as he to tell, monsters seemed to have a similar way of leaving…even if the froggits didn't wear anything. Then again they did seem to like water, so clothes would've gotten ruined. Anyway, despite not being human, they were people. Possibly animals too, depending on how one looked at the definition of things. Toriel did look like a goat, and the froggits did look like frogs. Frisk thought back to all those books his grandmother read to him years ago, with a hedgehog in a dress and a goose with a bonnet and pink cape-like thing. He couldn't remember what that was called.

"Do you know anyone called Peter Rabbit?" He could hear Chara deflating in the back of him mind, like a balloon slowly releasing air. A little over the top if Frisk were honesty.

"I do not think I have heard that name before," Toriel answered, "however there are monster that…resemble rabbits down here."

"Do they live in nearby?" Frisk felt a small burst of joy, maybe he another one of the books he read would be proven to hold a small bit of truth. "Can we see them?"

"Not today," Toriel stiffly replied, "at some point in the future we should be able to visit them."

"How long will it be before I can go home then?"

"A…it will be a while my child."

"Why?"

She didn't know how to explain it. Toriel was well aware of how small the ruins were for a child, or perhaps they were simply lacking in life. She even had to leave the ruins to buy a full set of groceries. Snails were surprisingly hard to find, despite the one tree growing by her house, so she needed to go to a specialist farm. And yet she doubted Frisk could be allowed such free movement, at least not without some kind of disguise. She needed to get him a mask of some sort, perhaps a fox or cat.

"I will…need to plan it all, my child."

"So we're far away from the exit."

"Yes, my child."

"…Are we not supposed to go there?"

She wanted to smile a little; this child appeared to pick up on things quickly. And yet Toriel realised her assisting this human child in such a wat would cause a ripple, because siding with a human so directly when against everything. The other monsters of the underground wouldn't agree with her choice. It also went against her history and perhaps against the greater good of her people, after all what was one child compared to their freedom. Didn't her previous failures justify keeping Frisk hidden away?

"The exit is…on the King's property, which means we would be trespassing."

"It's not against the law, so long as we don't' damage anything."

"And how would you know this, my child?"

"My grandmother told me."

That just created more questions than answers. As if Toriel needed another reason to worry about his home-life; as if she needed another try and convince that keeping the human child with her was right. It seemed none of the human who fell into the Underground had happy stories, all runaways and steeped in neglect. She remembered a girl with feet sore from pursuing dreams no-one was interested in hearing. She thought of the boy wrapped up in old televisions shows, who carried a toy pistol like it was real. If they had stayed, they would all have lived.

"And how would she know?" She asked; her voice was still sweet and kind.

"I…I accidently broke into a house" The look on Toriel's face made him explain, "I was playing hide and seek with some friends and I climbed through a window and hid in the house."

"Why did you think that was a good idea, my child?"

"It looked like a good place to hide." The other children never found him, "No-one was in there…but I felt kind of bad afterwards and I thought I'd be in trouble."

The pair finally came to a stop at a door. It's much larger than those the child had previously seen, dwarfing himself and Toriel with ease. Frisk never thought he would find a simply intimidating, but somewhere between the stone that absorbed all light and the strange craving around its frame, Frisk felt fear. He expected it to simply swallow him whole.

"My child, I must ask you to stay here." Toriel said, pushing open the massive thing without a tiniest bit of trouble. "I need to make sure that the room ahead is ready, so just wait for me right here."

She fussed around with her purple robe, searching in pockets that Frisk hadn't known to be here. Eventually, having dug around her impossibly deep holding holes, Toriel pulled out what a mobile would have looked like a decade or so ago. It had a big and bulky shape, rather unlike the slim and elegant design he'd seen a few of the older kids in school use. The number keys were bigger than a finger's point, although its screen seemed comparatively small. She gave to Frisk, who just looked at the device.

Frisk held down the button with a green phone printed on it. The screen light up with an eerie green colour and a tinny ringtone, which was reminiscent of the theme tunes for videogames older than the boy who played them. The details on screen were done in blocky, black pixels and it seemed to have no indicator for how well charged it was. It also lacked any slot to plug in a charger, and he guessed that pulling away the back plane of the phone would reveal something other than a battery.

"If you are need of my help, all you have to do is call me on this cell phone." She began to leave, "I believe the phone has a game known as 'snake' on it, it is rather fun."

So off Toriel went, with the door creeping shut behind her. Resigned to the fact that he would have to wait, he fumbled through the various menus on the phone. The phone had not been used before, or at least whatever evidence there was of said use had been deleted. No messages or past phone calls; all he found where a couple of game that came with it and a single number; Obviously Toriel wasn't going to forgot that little detail

'At least it's got chess on there as well.' Chara murmured, 'something tells me we're going to be waiting for a long time.'


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: As Above, Not So Below

It had been two hours and ten high scores on snake since Toriel left.

Frisk was used to be left on his own for a couple of hours, since his grandmother normally went to bed rather earlier. However that worked because Frisk knew how to find her and he had something to do. Watching a line of pixels get bigger could only hold his attention for so long; he didn't even know how to play solitaire, so there'd be no point in trying.

He tried wasting time by counting any stalactites he could see on the ceiling; so far he'd found nine of them. Frisk probably would've found more, if he'd had a flashlight to clear up the darkness hanging over his head. Still there came a point where one pointy rock looked startlingly like another, making his measurement inaccurate and ultimately pointless. He considered trying to take a nap or daydream for a while; however his mind had other ideas. Thoughts of home and getting back popped up like weeds.

'This is getting boring,' Chara chimed in for what felt like the hundredth time, 'and you've been scratching the back of your hand too long.'

"What?"

Frisk drew back his left hand from his right, his brain only then registering the stinging sensation he felt. Running across the back of his right hand was a sort of cut, with edges raw red and burning slightly. He knew it would leave a scar; he'd have a matching pair on that hand. Frisk never meant to hurt himself, but by the time he realised what he did it was usually too late. Now all he needed was a bandage to cover the thing with. There would be no blue spray for it. He hadn't even thought to pack it, probably because he hadn't thought he'd need.

'You really need to pay more attention to what you're doing.'

"It's not that bad," Frisk murmured back, "it'll heal quickly.

'If you can't avoid hurting yourself, what chance do you think you'll have against the monsters?'

"So what, I should stay here?"

'No…but…I'm always here to help.'

"Like you did with Flowery?"

'Yes exactly, because if you can't defend yourself…I'm always here.'

That should have been comforting, but something about Chara's overly cheerful tone sent his body it shivers. It sounded too sickly sweet to the child's ears. The idea of Chara taking over again made Frisk uneasy; he still didn't know what the other child had intended for Flowery. He did not know what Chara would do to Toriel either, and in fact Frisk's gut told him that Chara had bad plans for everyone. But he had promised to lead them both back to the surface and what was the worst a child could do?

Frisk phoned Toriel, letting in ring on and one, until he finally got an answer- well and answerphone to be exact. He ended the call before the voice on the other line could even ask him to leave a message, partly because he disliked worrying people and partly due to the fact that people rarely listened to their messages. He'd left countless answerphone messages for people he knew and almost never got anything back.

'So, what are we going to do now?'

"We wait," Frisk fell back onto the cold, hard ground, "she said she'll be back soon. It's not like she'd leave us."

He began fiddling with the ancient mobile phone, prying its back open. A phone that old normally ran out of charge quickly; the one his grandmother brought him certainly did. This begged the question of how the one in his hand hadn't died yet, Frisk guessed it had something to do with the battery. Given that magic existed and souls were visible, physical object, maybe the monsters found a way to make an ever-lasting battery. That certainly sounded more useful than any candy that lasted forever

He let the mobile's back panelling cluttered to the ground without a care. Those things took a lot of damage before breaking, and a few scuff marks wouldn't do any harm. Excitement surged and fell into disappointment, for hidden inside its case was a simple black rectangle much like the ones found in any other mobile phones. Sure this particular battery lacked the printed white lettering explaining all the manufacturing details, and it felt much warmer than normal, but it like every other battery. Frisk shouldn't have thought it would be any different, many others things were the same as above. He just thought magic may have changed how little things worked.

'What did you think it would be?'

"I don't know, just something a bit different I guess."

'Where do you think they even get their phones from?'

"…A company, like on the surface."

'What…what exactly are you talking about; I thought you just brought them form a store.'

"Well you can, but most of the time people try to sell a contract for them."

'…I guess I've better down here a long time.'

"You can still buy a phone on its own, but I think just pay as you go then."

'I don't understand.' Chara muttered, 'Now maybe stop with the navel gazing and actually do something.'

"Toriel said for me to wait here." Frisk stated, "She wouldn't have said that if she didn't mean it."

'Well she could be testing you.' Chara suggested, a tiny little laugh finishing their sentence, 'Maybe she wants you to go through the door and face whatever is behind it on your own?'

"Then why didn't she say that?"

'Because,' Chara drew the word out just a tiny bit longer than needed, 'this kind of test doesn't work if you know it is a test.'

"So by telling me it's a test, you've ruined it."

'It's a test of skill and character,' Chara sighed, 'think of it like this, how can she trust you to get home if you can't think for yourself?'

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean by that." Frisk replied. "And I don't get this test."

'Then it is a very good thing I am around to help you.' Chara said, 'Just think of this as a hero's test okay, like something out of a book or a videogame.'

That comparison clicked. Hero's always needed to pass a test or two before being let out into the wide open world, to ensure they'd succeed. Toriel telling him to stay skill could have been a way of seeing how much he cared for others; after all only someone very selfish wouldn't show concern for a missing friend. And he would have to be rather silly not to realise something was wrong after a couple of hours. It certainly seemed to be a good thing Chara pointed this out.

Frisk trotted up to the door, which had a silk smooth and shiny surface. A shiver shot down the boy's spine upon laying a hand said door, it felt like ice underneath his fingers. He had no clue how to open such a lofty thing; his puny child's arms would never be able to push such a things open. He didn't know how Toriel found such strength. Still without sight of a switch or other mechanism, Frisk needed to use physical force.

'Don't worry, the doors here are a little…different than those on the surface.'

"I thought you died when you fell."

'I've been stuck down there for a long time…I didn't just stay by my grave you know.' Chara replied, 'That would have been a bit morbid.'

"So are you just stuck in the ruins then," Frisk asked, "or is there some other reason you haven't gone back to the surface yet?"

'I…I do not really know the issue myself.' Frisk pictured the face of a downcast child, 'I think I'm tethered to the ruins, but with your help I'll be able to leave. Now, try opening that door.'

Frisk took a few steps back, breathed in a deep breath and counted to three. He then charged ahead with all his power, expecting his attempt to end up a bit like a fly hitting a window. Instead the massive stone door flew open upon Frisk's intentions becoming known, which happened to be the second both his hands were placed on both door panels. This led to Frisk being unable to slow down before the door opened and falling to the ground, followed by him cartwheeling and rolling painfully across the ground. That meant a scraped knees and elbows.

'I said those doors were different.'

Frisk shook the fall off and plucked himself back up; he gave his skimmed elbows a quick run. He barely kept four-lettered word held on his tongue, knowing full well he should never say it, and counted to ten instead. A quick glance around revealed a cavern room that matched the rest of the ruins, with a three rows of spikes blocking a bridge across to an exit. There were also three large, grey buttons and three rocks. There was luck and then there was an obvious step-up, which made Frisk buy into the idea of this being a test.

Without paying the situation anymore thought, Frisk began pushing rocks onto switches until the spikes hide back into the ground. Frisk took his time walking towards the bridge, his arms and legs a little sore from moving said rocks. Those things were heavy but a bit easier to move than he'd expected. He wished he'd moved faster; the spikes suddenly shot back up with a terrible metallic sound a second or so before he had touched the spike-grate.

"That shouldn't have happened.' Frisk said to himself.

'I would look behind you.' Chara replied, 'Though you may not believe what you see.'

Frisk did as Chara said, only to be met with a head-scratching sight. One of the rocks had been moved off its button, and no-one else appeared to be around to push it off the switch. Confused but not deterred, Frisk pushed the rock back onto the button and waited for the spikes to go back down. Only they didn't go back down or move at all really. Looking to his right, Frisk saw that yet another rock had been fiddled with; in fact the thing had almost been put back in its original position. And then he heard something heavy being dragged across around.

"Stop that right now!"

'Who exactly are you talking to?'

Frisk swiftly turned around, finger pointing at where the culprit should have been. He ended up yelling at the wind; the rock had been moved and whoever had done the moving simply vanished. With the rocks being inanimate and thus unable to move of their own freewill, Frisk was both metaphonically and literally stuck. He couldn't cross the bridge and he couldn't get the rocks to stay in place. Since they only moved when he went to the bridge, all the boy would be able to do stay in place or walk backwards. The second option left him open to…be impaled.

After a few moments thinking, Frisk planned on ignoring the bridge all together. The little underground river couldn't have been so deep to block his path, and little bit of water on his shorts would not do him any harm. Well no more than the previous down pour of rain had done. But just to be sure, Frisk grabbed hold of a tiny pebble and dropped in the river. He peered into the crystal clear water and saw the pebble land at the river's bottom, which was a good result. It certainly did not appear to be deep enough to require Frisk to swim. Frisk stepped back from the river's edge and started removing his neat black shoes, untying the laces with a little difficulty.

"And just what do you think you're doing?!"

The voice sounded piercing and shrill, like a typical strict grandmother with a long spindly finger. However much like before there was not a living soul to be seen. Frisk could hear two other voices as well, muttering and whispering so low that the boy could not hear them. It suddenly occurred to him that there as many voices as there were rocks, therefore maybe those rocks were really monster. Maybe there were like armadillos, curling up into what looked like rocks as a means of protection. Curious and rather annoyed, Frisk walked in front of the central rock, knelt down and began tapping on its surface. A high-pitched buzzing-like noise emitted from the rock in question.

"Would you kindly stop that?" The rock seethed out, "It is rather rude to poke other beings."

"Yea, how'd you like it if we poked you?"

"I'm sorry," Frisk stood up and backed away, "I…I was just wondering if you were the one who yelled at me."

"Well, do you see anyone else here too yell at you?"

Frisk turned his head from side-to-side, searching for anyone who could have screamed at him. How the thought-to-be monster in front of him managed to talk through its rocky hide made next to no sense. As did how it saw him with its eyes covered, or how it heard him with the lack of visible ears. In fact if he did not know any better, Frisk would have said the thing was just a simple. And a rock cannot see, or talk or even speak; then again that mannequin had managed to do all those things. Well the ghost inside the mannequin managed that, so maybe those rocks were possessed too.

"I don't think so…"

"'I don't think so' he says, as if we wouldn't notice someone else here." Another one of the rocks said, this one sounding like a grumpy old man. "I tell you, the kids these days are either stupid or think that we're stupid!"

"I don't think any of you are stupid!" Frisk exclaimed. "It's just that…well you don't have mouths."

"Of course we do not have mouth, we are rocks." The rock to the left replied, sounding much more cheerful, "Whatever would we need mouths for?"

"Well…you need a mouth to talk."

"Does the wind not howl," The calmer rock did muse, "and do the rivers not whisper as they flow, and do the leaves not whistle as the wind howls through them?"

Frisk supposed the rock had a point, despite the fact that those three things were all metaphorical and did not actual apply to the situation in front of him. Sure wind and water and leaves all made sounds, but none of them spoke sentences. In fact rocks having the ability to vocalise in the way he and the monsters he had met so far made no sense, and created more questions. Did it mean other natural materials had sentience, were plants conscious beings in the Underground?

"So how do you talk then?"

"That is an extremely complicated process to explain to a child." the calmer rock replied, "It would involve long words and possibly a diagram or two."

"Yea and it'd take too long as well."

"And why should we explain anything to such a rude child!" The older rock piped up hotly, "I mean you shoved me and my friends around, without bothering to ask us first…why I was just in the middle of a wonderful dream when you trampled in and pushed me around."

"I-I'm really sorry," Frisk scratched the back of his hand again, "I d-didn't know you could talk…or feel anything…"

"Well what sort of rocks have you been speaking with then?"

"Ones that aren't living, I think."

The collective gasp told Frisk he had said something wrong. As the rocks talked amongst themselves again their voices sharper and harsher, with the words 'strange' and 'horrifying' were repeated over and over. It took Frisk a moment to realise just what he had said to them, because if the rocks he had 'met' before were not alive they must have been dead. The image of every park or garden being a potential graveyard for creature were once alive, their corpses being used guards for plants, decoration or entertainment. That every stone thrown into water could have been alive, but he just hadn't heard them.

"They're not dead though!" Frisk yelled, "they just…aren't living either."

"Don't sound like any rocks I've met," the grumpy rock said, "maybe they're pretending to be not-living because they don't like you!"

Frisk muttered a 'maybe' and felt his face redden in embarrassment, anger and a little bit of upset. It hurt to think the rocks on the surface were trying to get him to ignore them. He'd seen the other kids somehow outcast one girl in his glass, all either pretending to not hear her or 'ignoring' in the most obvious way possible. That girl left his school a couple of weeks afterwards, probably because she didn't have any friends.

'Remember when I said the doors down here are different,' Chara said, 'well the rocks are as well.'

"You could have warned me," Frisk whined out, "none of this would've happened if you had."

'I thought this would be a better way of showing you.' Chara laughed a littler, 'I mean now you'll be very careful.'

"Well thanks." Frisk spat out, his mouth twisting into a scowl.

"And just who are you talking to?" The older rock yelled.

"N-no one," Frisk babbled, "I-I just talk to myself sometimes…"

"Well, it would be much better if you did that whilst not in the company of others."

Frisk gave a small 'sorry', his head hung low. A teacher once took him aside to tell him just that, voicing some kind of concern that he didn't really understand. And much like that incident, Frisk stood there mutely as he waited for the rock to finish speaking. He didn't understand what harm came from speaking to himself in front of others; it didn't matter if he didn't plan on speaking with those who judged him. Though he hadn't been talking to himself, but explaining it away as a voice inside his mind sounded like a terrible idea.

"I won't, I promise."

"Nah, you don't have to do what she says." The grumpy rock said, "You can talk to yourself if you want. After all what right does she have to tell you what to do?"

"I was merely making a suggestion," the other rock stated, "there's no need to be so aggressive about it."

"Well it ain't our business if the kid talks to himself." The grumpy rock chastised its friend, "What right do you have to tell others how to live?"

"I was trying to be helpful!"

"Just like you always are!"

Their argument petered out as soon as it began, with neither really able to keep the heat in their tempers. They it ended on a few thrown insults and huffs, their bodies inching away from each other at a snail's pace. Frisk eyed-up the river again, considering how it would take to jump in and get across, with thought being given to the fact that the rocks could not follow him. Then again there was an easier way to deal with it…

"Could you three….stand on the buttons?"

"We can, but I do have to question why," The calmer rock said, "you have to understand that your request is rather odd."

"Those buttons control the spikes." Frisk explained, "If all three of you stand on the buttons at the same time, the spikes will go down."

"And why would you want?" The older rock asked.

"Probably so he can get across to the other side." The grumpy said, "Why'd you think he was about to jump into that river?"

"Because he is a troublesome child and children do silly things, managing to get into all sorts of messes."

"No, no I just need to get across." Frisk said, "Someone's waiting for me on the other side."

"And who would that be?"

What exactly Frisk would call Toriel was a little up in the air. She acted as a guardian and a responsible adult; she had fed and clothed him, not to mention she had saved him. Frisk didn't know if the rocks knew Toriel by name, though he guessed they would have too. She probably came through there a number of times before. And she had crossed that same bridge not too long ago, and the rocks didn't appear to move quickly.

"Her name's Toriel, she's been gone for a very long time."

"Yes, yes she did say she would be coming back this way." The calmer rock replied, "in fact she did also mention that she would be bringing a child back with her."

"I'm that child." Frisk blurted out, "She's been gone for two hours now, said she'd only be a short time!"

"It might be best if you keep waiting dear, after all if you go looking for her…you might get lost as well." The older rock mused, "However we really don't have many other options right now, I doubt the froggits would have any better luck finding her."

"So you'll let me through."

"We don't have a choice here." The grumpy rock muttered, "Just be careful out there kid, don't go talking to any strangers and be wary of spiders."

Frisk nodded along, not really understanding the purpose behind the rock's last words. The second the spikes receded he ran across the bridge as fast as his little legs would go, thanking the rocks as he went. Again all he had needed to do was talk things out; so far everything was going smoothly.

'Just don't let you guard down,' Chara said, 'you never know what's lurking down here.'


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight: Puzzles and the Puzzling

Frisk walked down a long hallway. On the arched walls were torches that blinked into life as he approached, their flames chilling blue and barely moving. Straight and narrow the hallway went, just like a tunnel, with the sounds of running water fading behind him as gentle winds moved him forward. A beam of light entered his vision; it was a door opening for him. And so he stepped through to the side, expecting something difficult and even life-threating.

And once again the underground threw his expectations out the window. The child found himself in some kind of maze, at least that's what the tightly angles evoked, with leaves for orange garnet littering the ground. In fact the ground appeared to be just leaves, with no speck of solid earth in sight; Frisk hadn't seen a tree in the underground, but that counted as evidence. Some plants grew in dark, damp areas and the underground seemed to have both parts covered. He looked around his surrounding, searching for a map. The only maze he had been too had made sure visitors could have a chance at not getting lost. Inside he found bronzy plaque.

THOSE WHO WISH TO PASS MUCH SOLVE THE MAZE; CAN YOU SEE THE COLOUR OF THE LEAVES?

How navigating a maze and autumn leaves were linked seemed arbitrary, like asking to spell words with numbers. He couldn't see anything else to guide him either, which made the sentence all the more puzzling; the leaves were red and orange and yellow but that did not help him. He could see any patches of red leaves anywhere, which would've meant not going near them because red meant stop. But since green leaves were anywhere to be seen, the whole symbolism of the puzzle made no sense. Frisk may have been overthinking things.

'It's probably just there to confuse you,' Chara stated, 'trying to get you to look for something that isn't there."

"That doesn't make sense though."

'Yes it does,' Chara seethed out, 'the longer you spend trying to figure this out, the longer we've been here for. The longer we're here, the less likely Toriel is to let us leave.'

"And we spent two hours waiting for her…"

'Which means she probably already thinks you're a…I mean…she probably thinks you can't take care of yourself.'

"But how was I supposed to know, I'm not a physic!"

'Just calm down, get to the end of the maze and maybe then we'll be out of here.'

"Okay, but I still think there's something more to this."

Frisk began to tentatively move forwards, leaves crunching and shattering beneath his feet like glass, waiting for something to happen. His nerves coiled-up like springs and were ready to jump up at a moment's notice. But as he got further and further through the maze, his pace became faster and faster with each successful step. The worry etched onto his round little face faded into a tiny smile, and then a full-blown grin. The exit laid just a few strides away and nothing seemed prepared to stop him.

So he kept running, ignoring the ground beneath his feet, and how translucent some of those leaves appeared to be. He ignored it until the leaves gave way under his feet, revealing a hole in the ground just big enough for him to fall down. Frisk didn't realize what had happened until he reached the bottom, his body landing in yet more leaves. At least they cushioned the fall. He lay on his back, looking up at the place where had previously been and felt the horrible urge to cry, despite not being hurt.

"I told you so." Frisk sulked, "I said that message meant something, I said that it had to be important but you didn't believe me, and now we're down here!"

'Well get up and find a way back.'

"Fine, but maybe you should start listening to me a bit more."

'Oh…just shut up and get moving already!'

Frisk noticed a door behind him, torches lighting up once more; however more interesting sight hovered above him. For there he could see the holes dotted about, with the leaves levitating in thin air through what he guessed was magic. At least that seemed the only answer, with no nets or anything else acting as a barrier it had to be magic. The sight also held the riddle's answer, for those leaves hovering above had firelight illuminating them; this lighting made their colours more vibrant. They when from left behind plant matter to nature's stained-glass windows.

Through the door and up the staircase, he came to a dead-end that slowly opened up. It led Frisk to the spot where the maze began; if the child were honest he expected that. After all in all the stories he had read, failing a puzzle always had a negative effects. At least in his case no monsters or deadly traps were involved, and all he had to do was try the maze again. And with the knowledge he had discovered it couldn't be that hard…

Or so he thought. Frisk's second attempt ended much faster than his first, with a mere four steps walked before he fell down another hole. He had been looking ahead without really playing attention to what laid right under his button nose, slipping a foot forward in the precisely wrong place. On his third attempt that hole stuck out like a saw thumb and he moved around it, believing that another hole would not be so close to his previous mistake. Again the child miscalculated and landed on another pile of leaves, temper and patience being ground down like a cliff by the sea. And the giggling in the back of his mind did not help matters.

"If you think you can do any better, why don't you try?" Frisk muttered.

'Is that…is that an offer?' Chara's voice sounded tiny and sweet, 'Because I would really like to try and help.'

"Promise you won't cause any trouble?"

'I promise,' Chara almost sang, 'I'll give you full control once we've reached the end of this maze.'

"Well…alright then, just how to we switch?'

As Frisk asked his question, a horrible sensation shot through him. He felt hot and cold and dizzy all at once; his arms and legs were shaking that he fainted to the ground. His eyes closed shut and his mouth refused to open. Frisk's vision went darker than it even had before, without a single sherd of light or colour. Fear filled the boy as his body refused to do a single thing. He commands arms and legs to move, but they became lead; his tongue frozen in place and his lips were stuck together. He'd become a sort of brain in a jar, for his had the ability to think and only think.

'Try not to worry,' Chara said, 'this will only feel weird for a little bit.'

Numbness spread through him, bringing back memories of dentist's and a funny mask being replaced over his face. However no laughter bubbled in his throat, in fact the only feeling he had was a distance between himself and his body. The darkness did not wain or waver, and Frisk merely floated in it, unable to see to or hear anything. He imagined death felt like this, a body switching off before the mind does, and it terrified the child. Had his grandmother gone through such terror?

'Alright, you'll be able to see soon.'

"What?"

Something in him talked, despite there being no mouth or vocal cords. His sight slowly began to return, darkness being replaced with a swirl of too-bright colours mixing together. Sound returned, but as a formless fury screeching into his ears with a banshee's wail, making the boy wish for some way to block it out. It all blended into a mass of chaotic feed-back, before spreading thin and becoming shapes and statures, revealing Frisk to be back where he had previously been.

'T-There, can you see now?'

The voice speaking was his own, with his tell-tale high pitch and slight stutter. And yet Frisk knew he had not spoken, which meant whatever Chara had succeed in whatever they'd planned to do. He saw his body moving forwards, his line of sight changing as Chara looked down at their feet. Frisk hadn't noticed the mud on his shoes or that they no longer shone, he hadn't realised how red and painful the cuts on his knees looked. Frisk just ignored them, what reason was there for him to look at what he knew would be there?

"Y-yes, I can see."

Despite Chara having his voice the boy sounded as he normally did, even without him having a mouth. The steps his body took were not felt anywhere in Frisk's being, which may not have actually existed at that point. In fact he couldn't feel a single thing, not the floor under his feet or regular feeling of being alive. He couldn't smell the dampness of the underground either; he could just see and hear the world around him. Well having almost half his senses wasn't so bad.

'I've heard people s-say that we live b-between our eyes.'

"It's just weird,' A realisation hit him, "is this how you felt, all the time you were…where you were?'

Frisk received no answer, which in itself made him feel worse. However long Chara had been stuck amongst those flowers must've been a nightmare, unable to move away from their past grave. Monsters and the world as a whole probably past by Chara, and he'd been stuck there; no-one to talk to, because no-one could hear them. How many times had Chara tried to get someone else's attention and failed?

'J-just try n-not to think about it.' The other child replied, either answering his question or reading his thoughts, 'I-I don't n-need your pity.'

"I-it's not pity, I just feel horrible-"

'You never hurt me.' Chara growled, 'You didn't even know me, so why should you feel bad for me, or anyone else?'

"B-because that isn't a nice thing to happen, and-."

'Bad things happen all the time.' Chara snapped, 'Now just be quiet and let me solve this, without any stupid questions.'

"I'm s-sorry…I just wanted to help."

'Well you can help by shutting up.'

The rest of their journey through the maze is done in silence. Frisk can feel the heat of anger bubbling in their shared mind, tiny little pockets of heat and acid dancing around. And though he has lost his sense of taste, there is a sour flavour where his tongue and throat should be. It stings like pins and needles, not painful enough to get past the numbness completely but still there. Frisk worried at how outraged and upset Chara had become; he understood not wanting to be reminded, but he only wanted to try and find some way to learn about his friend.

Chara walked their body through the maze with ease, his focus all on the world around hm. Nothing got past him and the duo reached the end without another fall. The tall, arched hallway in front of them led into the next room, which probably meant one more puzzle up ahead. Although Frisk knew Chara would probably solve it much faster than him, he wanted to try first. Between the horrible sensation (and non-sensation) of lacking a body and the upset of his previous failure, he wanted to be a little useful.

"Can I have my body back now, please?"

'We're not at the end yet,' Chara said, 'even you have to agree it would be a much better idea for me to deal with this place.'

"Maybe, but this is a hero's test." Frisk replied, "And if we've both going to get back home, we both need to be able to figure the Underground out, right?"

'I suppose so.'

"So I should try whatever puzzle is up ahead, but if I can't figure it out you take over."

'Agreed, hopefully you can solve this one quickly, because we have time to make up.'

The transition of gaining back control of his body took far less time, lacking the blackout and fading of sensations. Instead he had been thrown back into the front of things, like a pellet being fired from a slingshot and into a wall. His entire being was thrown back in a whiplash motion; Frisk banged into a wall, his head smacking against its surface. Not enough to cause a serious injury, but it hurt a lot, so much that he stood still as his rubbed his head. Between the bump on the head and his newly regained motion control, Frisk saw doubles of everything dancing around his eyes.

'Please tell you're not the sort to get sick from this.'

"I-I'm okay, just have to move around a bit."

Frisk leaned on the wall, which kept him stable as he moved onwards. The hallway acted as those previously found, only Frisk saw a strange something on the wall, a writing of sorts in bright white paint. He couldn't make out what the writing said, despite the fact that he world had stopped spinning by that point. It did not look like any written language he had seen, with words and sentences made out of symbols that didn't appear to symbolise anything.

'What's wrong, why have you stopped moving?'

"I t-thought I saw something on the wall."

'Well I can't see anything, and we're using the same eyes.'

"Are you sure, because it looked like…like someone wrote something right here…"

He places his palm over the blocky white symbols, a buzzing tickling his skin; it felt like the sound a bumblebee made. He brain became filled with the white and grey snow of static, and his thoughts became muddled and confused. Frisk could hear tiny bits of word, he heard someone talk and it wasn't Chara; no, this voice sounded scratched and ruined, with electrical sparks blocking out bits and pieces. A half heard conversation that made no sense.

'Frisk, just how hard did you bang your head?'

And just like that it all braked to a halt. He removed his hand from the wall, where the language of symbols had disappeared without a trace. Maybe he had hit his head a little too hard, only if he had Chara would have had the same experience. Frisk sat down and took a deep breath, trying to calm down. He had a similar event happen on the surface; weird things appearing before his eyes and sounds blaring in his eardrums, only that had been a nightmare. Well his grandmother had called it a night terror, but as far as he knew they were the same thing.

'I can take over whenever you like.' Chara said.

"No, I'm fine…but are you sure you didn't see anything?"

'Frisk, I only saw what you saw,' Chara giggled, 'you may think you saw something, but that was just you imagination. After all you have a good one of those, don't you?'

"How'd you know that?"

'It takes an imagination to be so scared of nothing.'

That hurt to hear. Frisk knew what he saw and what he heard, but he could only doubt it with Chara there whispering in his mind; they shared the same eyes and ears. He could still conjure up a shadow of what had invaded his head, the symbols yelling at him and begging him to understand them. Head hung down and eyes to the ground, Frisk carried on to the next room, with a tiny glimmer of determination left. He needed to prove his worth as a functioning part of the 'team'.

THERE IS ONLY ONE SWITCH.

Another purple room and another plaque awaited him, albite this one made a bit more sense. There were six gaps in the floor, each on leading down and each one having a closed door right next to it. An obvious answer really; by luck or process of elimination, Frisk needed to find the room with the switch. Why he had to jump down rather than go through a door escaped him, other than the puzzle having a creator with a flair for the dramatic. Frisk pictured them being bit like the gameshow hosts on those painful but funny TV shows. Only it stopped being funny after the first, second and third time.

However if only one of the rooms had a switch in it, the others probably homed something else. An given that the only other thing he'd besides switches were the people of the underground and not so dangerous traps, Frisk felt a little more confident. The worst that ever seemed to happen amounted to him having to try again; no injuries or hardship, he just had to get up and dust himself off after a failure. He made his way to the closest of the gaps and poked his head down it.

"Is a-anybody down there?" Frisk yelled, his voice echoing a few times.

"Eat your vegetables!" Said voice; it had a squeaky tone to it like a pet's toy.

"Can you see a switch down t-there?" Frisk tried again.

"Eat your vegetables," the voice repeated, "they're delicious and good for you!"

"It will probably be a button, or maybe a lever."

"Eat your vegetables." again the voice repeated, "They are an excellent source of fibre and have all the things a healthy monster needs!"

'I don't think there's any point in trying to talk with this veg-head,' Chara murmured, 'not unless you want to have a salad thrown at you.'

"H-have you got a better idea about how we're supposed to find a switch?"

And when no answer became the loud reply, Frisk huffed. For all intents and purposed, it appeared that he would have to treat this as a guessing game, upping his chances with every wrong answer. And because nothing in ruins seemed to be out to hurt him, Frisk doubted anything lurking below would be so bad. It just felt as though the entire puzzle had been devised to take up time, rather than actually test any tangible skills. As Frisk prepared to take his first leap of faith, he noticed something from the corner of his eyes.

Avoid the gap furthest back and to the left, another white symbol appeared. Not an elaborate string of pictures turned into words like before, but a single white 'X' with tiny portions of it flickering in and out of existence. Frisk didn't dare touch this one, not after what happened not too long ago, but it 'X' was supposed to mark the spot. Sometimes it meant treasure, but there it signalled what Frisk hoped to be the correct choice.

Without consulting with Chara first, or even giving his passenger any warning whatsoever, Frisk jumped through the gap. He hit another pile of leaves and looked around, with no monsters or traps were lying in wait. What welcomed him in their stead was a small lever on the wall, near some low-hanging ivy, which Frisk pulled the second he noticed it. The ringing of a chime and the creak of another door opening were his reward.

'Well…I guess you managed to get very lucky.'

 _Author's Note: Hope those still reading are enjoying, should be updating a little faster now!_


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: Spiders and Ghosts

 _Author's Notes:_ _Sorry for yet another delay, laptop issues meant a failed attempt at fixing it and having to replace it. Things can only last so long. Good news is that I have a replacement now, so this one should not be conking out on me anytime soon._

There was hallway between puzzles, however this time things were different. Rather than a straightforward walk to the next puzzle, the hallway twisted and turned at sharp angles. Frisk imagined that from above it might have resembled the pixel line from a game of 'Snake'. Numerous cobwebs hung from the ceiling, their thin webbing glinting from the light of the torches. In fact, Frisk managed to catch sight of a few tiny baby spiders scurrying ahead of him.

The further along he went, the more Frisk became certain he heard talking. He heard three voices and all three of them had a high pitch; Frisk recognised the strange ribbiting noises they were making as well. Looked for an alternative path forwards, knowing that if these Froggits were older they could figure out he was human. Although he did not understand why, he guessed they may take offense to his presence and convincing a group to leave him along may not be possible.

Keeping as close to the cold wall as possible, his hand moving across an oddly smooth surface. The torches were still shining brightly and, unless Frisk got extremely lucky, any monsters up ahead were going to notice him at some point. However the snake-like nature of this hallway gave him a small break, because another sharp angel awaited him. Frisk hid behind the corner, listening into the conversation going on nearby.

"I thought those spiders would change less," the largest of the trio croaked, "all my pocket gold is gone!"

"Well you did buy a cider and a donut." The smallest of the three squeaked, "You didn't have to buy both, we've got cider back home."

"But mum and dad won't let us drink that cider," the largest one whined, "and this stuff is meant to be for everyone."

"What's the difference between that cider and the one you guys have at home?"

"Mum and Dad won't say."

Frisk felt his ears perched up a little; he recognised that voice to be Darty. He peeked out from behind the corner holding a small smile on his face, waving at the group with just a tiny bit of joy. At least he may have had a little bit more help now. Darty heard Frisk and hopped over to him at speed, great enough that the frog-like monster ended up barrelling into the human child. Both Frisk and Darty hit the ground with a mighty thud, without the former's being whacked in the process. In the middle of all this Chara muttered something about losing brain cells, and Frisk possibly lacking them.

"Get off of that Darty!" The bigger Froggit yelled.

"Run away from it!" The other screamed.

Both of Darty's friends fled the area at speed, dropping their treats as they left. For his part, Darty grinned at his friend, before realising that standing on the homo sapien's stomach might not be the best idea. He swiftly hopped away, ribbiting a long strings of apologies as Frisk pulled himself up from the ground. Nothing felt broken and there had been no audible snap, sure he'd have a bump on his head but that was common.

"Are you here for the bake sale too?" Darty asked, "Because they've still got some stuff left, and I've got a bit of extra gold if you need it."

"You've got gold?" Frisk asked, forgetting about his other questions.

"Yea, don't you?"

"Can I see it?"

The young Froggit looked at Frisk, confused and just a tiny bit untrusting of his new friend. The other Froggits at stolen his gold before. Despite this, Darty rummaged through this 'collar' and found a few stray pieces of the precious rock. With an opened palm, he revealed the rock to be a glittering treasure; Frisk could only stare at it with dumfounded bemusement. Those tiny little specks were probably worth more on the surface than any amount of money he'd ever had. And that included the one time he had tried saving up for handheld console.

"Is that a lot of gold?" Frisk questioned, since the other monsters had said they had spent all of their gold on drinks and pastries, "What could you buy with it?"

"Not much really," Darty replied, "shouldn't you know that?"

"M-my…my mother doesn't l-let handle gold much." His tongue barely kept pace with his brain, "S-she said that I could b-buy something myself today, but I r-really don't know what to get."

'You're a pretty good liar Frisk.'

He didn't like hearing that, because good children weren't supposed to lie.

"Well, if you've a similar amount to me, you should be able to get a cider." Darty replied, "They've still got a few bottles of it left, apparently it's really good this year!"

"Thanks," Frisk started walking forward, only to feel one slippery hand grab hold of this sleeve.

"That's the wrong way silly," Darty dragged him to a hall in the cavern, with a sign standing outside of it.

Frisk read it, taking note of the prices; 8 bits of gold of a doughnut, 96 for a dozen and 10 bits of gold for a bottle of cider. He then felt around the pockets of his shorts, thinking that maybe he'd find just a bit of it left over from their previous owners. He had a habit of leaving things in his pockets, which ended up clunking and clanking about in the washing machine later. And luck seeming to be willing to shine upon him, Frisk recovered a few bits of gold. Exactly 18 pieces to be precise, counting each one with care not to drop them. He hadn't even felt them weighting down his pockets.

"You've got just enough to grab some lunch," Darty grinned, "I'll wait out here for you."

Frisk walked into the cave, having to slouch a little when entering. The cavern the spiders had set up their bake sale in looked one part enchanting and two parts creepy. More webs covered the walls, with corners consumed by silky and sticky string. Larger webs were stuck to walls, with full blown messages spun into them and their edges decorated with ornate designs. None of the spiders on the surface ever did anything like that; he'd only read a story were a spider did that, and that had been to save a pig.

"Excuse me sir or madam," someone said in a tiny, high pitched voice voice, "I take you would like to buy something."

Frisk frantically searched for the person talking to him, only to hear a small cough from below. Just a few steps away from his feet stood a small, black dot of a spider; if the creature had drawn the boy's attention, it may have been stepped on. On the small spider, Frisk could just about make out a minuscule amount of red around what probably counted as its neck. Among all of the oddities, this one seemed the strangest to him, because the stripe of colour seemed to have a bow on it.

"Are you wearing a bow-tie?" Frisk asked, his mouth moving before thinking about the question.

"Why yes sir or madam, I am." The little spider said, "And it's not very often that other monsters seem to notice, so thank you very much!"

"It looks…cute." Frisk smiled from ear to ear, "Must be difficult to tie a tie without fingers though."

"Why no sir or madam, it's actually rather easy!"

The little spider jumped with joy that someone seemed to take an interest in their attire. All of the spiders working there made an effort in looking their best; their boss always told them too, saying it would bring business in. The spider excitedly explained how using their legs worked as well as fingers when it came to tying things, and how their fangs did some of the work as well. For his part, Frisk stood as still as one of the many columns he'd seen, rather intrigued by the whole thing. No matter how well the spider explained it, he still couldn't picture the process.

'They spin thread, remember?' Chara said, 'Haven't you ever seen a spider eat its prey?'

An image crept into his mind. A big spider with hug fangs hung over smaller bug, one that flailed about trying to escape the eight-legged beast's nest. But they hadn't a chance and the spider slowly wrapped the in a cocoon of sorts, letting the bug struggle as layer and layer of thread encased the bug. The struggling became weaker and weaker until the bug just stopped. And the spider left the cocoon in its web, alongside all the others that it planned to eat later.

Frisk left a dry lump form in his throat; he could feel tiny legs moving all over his skin.

'Maybe that's what they're going to do to you?' Chara giggled, 'Maybe that little spider there is sizing you up, wondering how many of them would have to help to get you all wrapped up?'

"Is there anything I can get you?" The spider yelled.

"Oh…oh…s-sorry," Frisk looked away from the spider.

"No need to say sorry, you just look a little pale."

"I-I'm fine thanks." Frisk took out the gold pieces from his pocket, "May I have a doughnut and a bottle of cider, please."

"Of course gracious customer, I will just go and retrieve those for you!"

The spider scuttled away, climbing up a long string of thread and out of sight. Left alone, Frisk noticed a faint fairground smell; a mixture of surgery sweetness that even the most addicted of child would be overwhelmed by, and deep frying. It made his mouth water and his stomach awaken with a start, grumbling and demanding something tasty and unhealthy. Normally Frisk avoided sweets, by the wonderful aroma and lack of other option won him over.

A small brown paper bag and a glass bottle descended from above, held up a rope weaved by spiders. It stopped and started many times, before finally hanging right in front of the child's face; the swaying of the snack and drink was almost metronomic. Frisk found himself nearly hypnotised by the movement, and the smell of utter deliciousness amplifying the effect.

"There is your order wonderful customer," the spider cheeped, "please take your order and have a wonderful day!"

"Thank you," Frisk replied and looked upwards with a smile, "I hope you have a good day as well."

A quick tug on the rope released Frisk's lunch, the rope splitting into two as he did. Frisk shuffled around his pockets and managed to find one last bit of gold; he took it out and tried to tie the frayed roped around it. After a couple of attempts, Frisk had it neatly and strongly attached to the rope and gave it a quick tug before leaving. He'd always been told to leave a tip if the service had been good.

Frisk caught up with Darty, who found a tall rock to sit near; the child worried that his friend may have offended the rock by doing that. But without any obvious signs of objections coming from the object, Frisk joined his friend, watching with slightly disturbed fascination as he ate. There was something to be said about a creature that could swallow a hand-sized doughnut whole, his long tongue wrapping about the treat in a serpent-like manner.

"Are you here doing the test as well?" Frisk questions.

"Nope, I've already passed, are you only just taking it then?" Frisk nodded, "Huh, everyone says Toriel is overprotective…"

"What's the test for?"

"It's….well everyone says it used to be a test of adulthood kind of thing," The Froggit hummed in thought, "I guess now it's just used to make sure we know how the world works."

"And that's…through puzzles?"

"Of course, they're fun, educational and keep people you don't want in your away!"

As subjective as the term fun could be when describing a puzzle, it made an odd kind of sense. Frisk thought over the concept a bit more as he ate; his chewing slowed as his brain buzzed around like an anger hornet. As far as Frisk puzzles were games or attempts to make schoolwork more enjoyable. He swallowed the last of his lunch, only half-finishing his cider, leaving him unable to take it with him. His pockets appeared too small to put it in, although he hadn't felt the weight of the gold before.

Magic was everywhere, so the idea of enchanted shorts wouldn't have been much of a stretch. Frisk experimentally stuffed the bottle into his pockets, at first the object barely stayed put but soon his pockets seemed to drag the bottle of cider down. Frisk did not want to think about how similar too eating this action seemed, because he'd dealt with enough living inanimate objects. The idea of living clothing brought his thoughts to a crying and screeching halt; if they ate anything, maybe he'd be next.

"So…could you help with the next puzzle?" Frisk asked and cringed at the look nervous look Darty had. "Or maybe just give me a hint?"

"I can't, we're not supposed tell anyone else about it."

'Some friend he is,' Chara whispered, 'if he was your friend, he'd tell you.'

"I'm sorry Frisk."

"It's a-alright; I can figure it out b-b-by myself," Frisk got up off the ground, dusting himself off, "I'd better g-get going now."

"I can come with you!" Darty quickly hopped behind him.

"W-what would t-the point be?" Frisk huffed.

"…Because I'm your friend."

Frisk wanted to be angry with Darty, really he did. He wanted to be as mad as Chara kept telling him he should be; if the Froggit was his friend he'd be helping. Frisk hurried through the ruins with Darty barely keeping up with the boy, with the lack of conversation making his webbed feet inch. Telling Frisk what lay ahead would go against the point of test, and everyone needed to know how to live in the Underground. Not helping Frisk had to be in the right choice in that case…or so he hoped.

They passed another arched-door, which led the pair into another roomed filled with autumn leaves. The walls looked a little different as well, with yellowish bricks creating them rather than the badly carved-out purple stone. Frisk turned to Darty and waited for an answer. There had to be something special about this room, otherwise the monsters wouldn't have put so much effort into it. The little Froggit stood mutely, waiting for Frisk to do or say something.

"Do you know where we are?" He finally asked, arms crossed, "Because if you do, the you could tell me."

"It's just another hallway."

'He's lying,' Chara murmured, 'I knew you couldn't trust him.'

"So why is it so different from the others?"

"I don't know." Darty shrugged, "I've heard that some parts of the ruins are like this, you know from before all the other monsters left."

"Why'd they leave?"

"I'm not all that sure, but mum said it had something to do with a disagreement between the king and queen. "

"So the Froggits stayed here because…"

"We wanted to." leaves crunched under his feet, "We like it here, so why should we have leave?"

"And was it the Queen or King who stayed-"

Frisk's question was cut-off by noise, one unlike anything he had ever heard. It sounded like multiply versions of the same voice; there was a mixture of pitches and tones that all blended into echo other, like a broken microphone that bounced off the walls. However, all of them held the same sadness, for what lacked in words was made-up for in sheer sadness. They were not crying exactly, just edging towards tears; like a child who tried holding everything in.

The pair sought out the source of the noise, retracing their steps and paying attentions to any corners or unlit areas. They near weeping continued, and the pair were still none the wiser as to where it came from. Whoever kept made these sounded must have needed help. They were in a part of the ruins barely used anymore, so they could have been lost. The person in question could have also been hurt, and to Frisk there might have been the slim possibility that another human child fell down there. Who was to say how many holes were dotted around the ceiling of the Underground?

"They could be up ahead," The little Froggit's darted from left-to-right, "because they're not here!"

Frisk nodded and they hurried on ahead, running thought the hallway. The leaves on the floor disappeared as their passed through a slightly narrower section, the dry and fragile things replaced by a much different sensation underfoot. It felt cold and damp without actually being wet, the weight of water seeping into shoes missing. He was aware of the temperature plummeting around him, all warmth draining from his skin as moisture built-up on the walls. The boy's teeth chattered and all he wanted to do was curl into a ball to regain just a tiny bit of heat.

The little Froggit did not fare any better. Darty's vibrant green skin took on a pale and sickly tone; his eyes grew wide with fear, and his lips took on a wiggly shape. He had never seen anything like this in all of his short life. Darty tried to scream as the thing formed behind his friend, but found his voice only came out in a tiny wheeze. His terror for himself and his friend kept him rooted in place, all four legs filled with fear as heavy as lead.

An unnatural mist appeared and snaked its way past Frisk's legs and grew upwards, stretching in height until it reached above the pair. The top of its blurry form had a dome shape, whilst the rest of the misty mass stood straight. The mass of mist had no feet to stand on and instead it had a frill-like row, giving it an appearance comparable to a sheet ghost. The pair of sunken in, black-rimmed eyes only added to this impression.

Frisk became aware of this supernatural entity when he saw Darty pointing at it, mouthing the words 'behind you'. Frisk slowly turned around, facing the ghost head-on and letting loose a screech before running away as fast as his legs would carry him. He grabbed hold of Darty, because he was not angry enough to leave the Froggit behind with a ghost. However, the ghost stood on the spot rather than follow the two. And the crying they heard lessened as they ran away from it, making Darty stop and forcing Frisk to do so as well.

"Why are you stopping D-Darty?" Frisk cried out

"I…Frisk I think the ghost is the one crying."

Frisk and Darty looked behind themselves. The ghost had not moved an inch, its head hung low and at a rather painful looking angle. Big, bubbly teardrops fell from its too long eyes and the small mouth the ghost had hung open in sadness. The ghost kept sobbing and sniffing, murmuring half-formed words and noises; obviously, the ghost had noticed them but it did not seem to care about their presence. On the other hand, maybe they had made the ghost even more upset.

Darty hopped forwards, approaching the ghost with thought put into his movements. Frisk merely watched as the Froggit took the lead; all the human child knew about ghosts was that they were not supposed to exist, and they tended to haunt things. Sometimes they killed people; sometimes they tried to kill people before being forced to 'move on'. Frisk never heard of ghosts being anything other than frightening, temperamental and quick to attack the living. He really did not want to approach the ghost, despite its unthreatening appearance.

"Are you okay?" Darty looked up at the ghost.

"I'm fine."

The ghost's voice sounded like two or three people speaking at once. Their head had not moved and they seemed reluctant to make eye contact, although it was a little hard to tell because of the lack of pupils. The ghost's sullen demeanour did not convince Darty even the tiniest bit; however, it did make Frisk feel a safe enough to step close. If the ghost intended to do harm, they probably would have done it by now.

"Why a-are you crying," Frisk asked, "are you h-hurt?"

"No…I fine," the ghost replied, backing away slightly.

"Did someone upset you?" Darty asked.

"No…no, no-one upset me." The ghost sniffed and tried to stop crying, their breath hitching.

"Then what's wrong?"

"I j-just feel…down." The ghost deflated as they spoke.

"Can we help you?"

"We can talk to you if you want!" Darty jumped at the ghost, making them shriek back, "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's alright…I'm just not feeling all that happy," the ghost gave them both a small smile, "I'm…grateful you're talking to me though, a lot of other monsters just ignore me…"

"Maybe it's because they can't see you," Darty suggested, looking to Frisk, "I mean we couldn't see you until you let us!"

"Yea," Frisk said, "y-you just appeared out of nowhere."

"Is that why you both ran away?" The pair nodded, "I-I'm so sorry, I didn't want to scare either of you…"

"It's o-okay, we just misunderstood."

"We were just going to the final test…you see my friend here is taking it today!" Darty grinned, "Maybe you can come with us?"

"No thanks, I-I'll just get out of your way now" the ghost started to disappear, "M-maybe you can come visit me some time. I have a house near Snowdin…"

"Sure that'd…be…fun?"

The ghost had disappeared, and right before Frisk could ask their name. Despite wanting to try to find their new friend, Frisk knew that the only way to do that would be to finish the test. Snowdin must have been outside of the Ruins, and he could only get there once he had proven himself to Toriel. Therefore, when they came to another large, stone door, Frisk readied himself for whatever waited for him.

"Don't worry about it too much," Darty cheered, "you'll have it figured out in no time, you'll see!"

"Thanks…I-I'm sorry I got mad earlier."

"Don't worry about it. Just pass the test so we can visit the ghost together!"


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten: Rewind, Reset

 _Author's Note: Late again, sorry for that. Things have not been easy on my end and last bit of 2016 really did kick me in the rear. However the chapters may start to get longer. Hopefully this year will be less troublesome than the last; I'd actually like to get this fic finished._

THIS IS THE FINAL PUZZLE, HOW MANY PERSPECTIVES CAN YOU SEE FROM? PRESS THE CORRECT SWITCH FOUR TIMES TO GET THROUGH; THE CORRECT SWITCH WILL ALAWAYS BEEN IN THE SAME PLACE.

Frisk mentally sighed in relief. Two of the puzzles had explained what he needed to do, and so long as he had some understanding of what he needed to do, he'd be fine. And if the correct switch remained in the same place, the only difficulty should have been finding it. There only so many walls, stones and other miscellaneous objects to hide something in; at worst he could only imagine crawling through a hole or something equally as arbitrary. Frisk had already been there and done that.

'Maybe they were running out of ideas, they did already use a spiked floor.'

"They could have used a tile puzzle."

'Oh don't you start giving them ideas.'

There were more marble pillars dotted around the room, mostly on the outskirts. These ones looked a little newer though, their surfaces smooth and unblemished by time, their colour brighter and cleaner. Frisk noted that room was perfectly square, with all sides equal and identical to each other. At the room's centre stood a switch with a red blub that shone with brightness not unlike the torches. To left of the red switch was a green switch, and to the right of the red switch was a blue switch.

"I'm g-guessing the green switch is probably the right one."

'The green switch is on the left,' Chara giggled, 'what are you, colour-blind?'

"No, I meant that the green switch is the o-o-one we have to press, so it's the right one."

'Nope, it's still the switch on the left.'

"I k-know it's the switch on the left, but that means it's the right switch!"

'No, because we still have to press the left switch.'

"That what I s-said!" Frisk screamed, only for the metaphorical gears in his head to start spinning, "You did that on purpose…you're just making fun of me!"

'Well maybe next time you should be a little clearer about what you mean.'

Frisk huffed through his nose in response, making a note to no talk to Chara until the other child apologised. Chara was in his head, so they must have known what he meant. The boy dug his feet into the ground as he walked towards the green switch, harshly hitting the thing when he stood before it. Something in the room clicked and another large slab of a door slowly ascended, with two large weights descending to the ground.

This passage that followed twisted and turned, and Frisk became certain he had walked in a circle somewhere along the way. However he did get to the next room eventually, which looked exactly like the previous one; that did not surprise him though. The interior decoration of the ruins didn't vary a great deal, with the walls differing only in the natural patterns found on stones and mountains. The fact that their size appeared about the same could be explained because they were both squares, which would make it harder to estimate space.

Only when he saw the three switches in the centre of the room, it became obvious the purpose behind this staging. The three switches were in a different position this time; they were all in a horizontal line, with the green switch placed to the right. Frisk's first instinct was to press the green switch, tapping it and waiting for another door to open. When nothing happened he tapped it again and again, his tapping becoming more frequent, as well as harder. Before he could break the switch's glass-like exterior, it flashed to life.

'I guess it had a delayed reaction.' Chara said, waiting for Frisk to reply, 'Are you ignoring me?'

Frisk refused to answer, and felt a surge of red shot right to his head as a loud buzzing sound filled the air. He'd heard it on a number of gameshows when a contestant answered a question wrong or failed a challenge. Obviously the green switch was not the correct one, and the clue given at the puzzle's start gave him the answer. The central switch was blue and the right one was red. The correct switch was supposed to be in the same place, which meant that it probably hadn't been given the same colour.

'I could have just given you the right answer at the start of this,' Chara seethed, 'but no, you had to ignore me!'

"Y-you started it," Frisk sulked, "you were making fun of me."

'It was a joke Frisk,' Chara sighed, 'if you were anyone else, you probably would've understood that!'

"Well you're jokes a-aren't very funny."

Frisk wanted to keep arguing with Chara, at least until the other child apologised, but he lacked the words and fire. He just wanted to get to finish off these riddles, and then Frisk would be able to get home and be free of Chara. Tiny, petty thoughts of anger rattled around Frisk's skull as he travelled to the next puzzle, filling with fury like a sort of pufferfish. It was surprising that steam had not expelled from his ears like an old-fashioned train.

The upset stewed until he reached another puzzle. Four well-maintained pillars were placed in rather random areas of the room, with only two of the switches were visible from where he stood. One of them was red and too far to left to be the correct switch, the other was green and too far to the right. This meant that Frisk needed to find the blue switch; he figured out just why the pillars were swiftly. Sure enough hidden behind the pillar placed at the room's centre laid the blue switch.

"That was easy." Frisk said, "F-for people who love puzzles, the monsters don't really seem to make them very well."

Chara did not make a peep and Frisk had no issue with that; the boy was confident he didn't need help. He already knew exactly what he was doing. Frisk felt a surge of confidence, making his steps faster and less thought-about, and the Underground seemed less cold now. Sure the wall still towered over him, but they didn't loom above his head with evil intent anymore. Any glimmers of light he saw had become stars or specks of water, rather than a spike waiting to fall down upon him.

He entered the next puzzle with a much better set of mind. It didn't matter how many pillars there were, he figured the answer out in a few short seconds and was rushing out the door without a care. The following tunnel eventually led back to where he started, a few step away from the old, withered tree that covered the ground with bright red leaves. Having taken a bit more time to examine the seemingly dying plant, the bark looked far darker than that of any other tree he had seen. He could not even see the usual natural engravings and holes, making the tree appear to be a simple shadow.

Frisk's mobile started ringing, bringing him out of his thoughts. He didn't bother looking at the number on screen, not when it had the owner of it programmed onto it. Toriel had gone up and beyond to make sure Frisk had the resources to contact her, and probably she could keep a metaphorical eye on him. He pressed on the green phone button and held the speaker up to his ears, waiting for the monster on the other end to speak.

"Hello my child, how are you?" Her voice had a calming effect, all his excitement and adrenalin leaving his system. "I was just wondering, which do you prefer…butterscotch or cinnamon?"

"Ummm…."

Frisk hadn't really had much experience with either of flavour. His only memories of butterscotch came from hard sweet his grandmother kept in her bag, which tasted of sugar and little else. Although she liked them, she did admit they only vaguely resembled the real thing. And cinnamon had never been something she used in her cooking much; the one time she did, Frisk nearly coughed on just how much of the reddish powder she 'sprinkled' into the apple pie. Honestly his preference lay with neither of these things…

"C-cinnamon I guess…"

"Oh," Toriel's voice weakened a little, "well you just wait where you my child, I will be there to pick you up shortly."

"Are you sure this isn't some kind of test?" Frisk blurted out.

"Whatever do you mean, my child?"

"W-Well…" He had to think of something to say, "I-it's just that a lot of other m-monsters have been going in there saying that it's a test of m-maturity."

"I suppose it technically is," she answered, "however I do not expect you to take it."

"Are you sure?"

"My child, I would not be so cruel and to leave you there and believe you to be able to read minds, I would have told you first."

That did sound like the more grown-up way of doing things. Sure his books and games made the teachers and other adults hide things from the heroes, so they could trust their courage or some-such. However he'd never been in an actual situation where the adult in-question thought he would do something without be told to, at least not when it could have been dangerous. Frisk became aware of his throat drying and a lump forming, like a rock had gotten stuck. Toriel would not be pleased.

"You haven't gone through the door, have you?"

"I…I just thought t-that…" his words came out in tiny hiccups, "I t-thought you'd want me to p-prove I could take care of myself…"

"Where are you right now?" Her words were hurried, and yet held no anger.

"I'm b-by the t-tree."

"Do not cry my child…this is all a mere misunderstanding." Frisk managed to pull back his tears, "I will be with you shortly so please go inside. The door is unlocked so you will be able to go in."

"I s-sorry…I…"

"It is all right my child, I will be there soon."

The phone call ended and Frisk carefully went inside, looking for stay monsters or alike. He stopped by a stairwell that led to what he assumed to be a basement, though why it had been blocked off by red tape bemused him. It wasn't really strong enough to survive a good tug and even if it had been, anyone could have simply ducked under it. If it were just there for so, then the question became who exactly would be put-off for going down there.

'Maybe it's to stop you.' Chara suggested, 'It is there for someone who would obey the rules, rather than thinking for themselves

"You mean like someone who'd lie about something being a test of courage?" Frisk threw back, "All you've done so far is get me into trouble!"

'I'm trying to get us both back to the surface, which means sometimes we're going to have to break the rule.'

Frisk walked into the living room and sat in large green chair, which was far too large and soft for his liking. Rather than being seated in it, it felt like the armchair was going to suck him into its depths. There he sat, with the door Toriel had been reading to him open across his lap; the book itself was rather heavy in his small hands. He tried to find the page they had been on, stopping every time he caught sight of one of the pictures. They were a little faded with page, but they looked hand-drawn and very detailed.

'Look,' Chara said, 'maybe I shouldn't have lied to you, but you promised you'd help me get back home.'

"And that's why you lied?"

'Do you really think Toriel is going to let you leave?'

He filled through the pages, the paper old, a little dusty and marked with use. Dog-eared corners and tiny tears across random pages revealed that Toriel must have been fond of the book, or at least had reason for repeated reading. Toriel had been nice to Frisk; she had rescued him and given him a room to sleep him. Sure her constant referring to him as 'my child' was weird, but talking frogs were as well.

'But isn't it strange that she had room ready in the first place?'

"She probably has a child of her own."

'So where are they?'

"Maybe they're an adult now."

'And she just happened to keep the room exactly like a child's?' Frisk began to have some idea of what Chara was trying to say, 'Either way it doesn't matter, we need to leave and now is the prefect chance!'

"We don't know where to go!"

'I…I've heard a few things, so I'll be able to guide us.' Chara explained, 'Toriel isn't going to let you leave anytime soon, so you have leave by yourself.'

"W-why should I trust you?"

'You don't have a choice.'

White symbols flashed across the walls, pulsing like a heartbeat. Hands moved in motions that mimicked sign language, like a girl at his school used to do. His flesh when from freezing to feverish again as the numbness set in; all to the tune of static blaring into his brain. Something terrible was happening and Frisk knew he wanted it to stop. Chara giggled and they took over, but even their voice was drowned out by a new a noise…just a single word. From a figure a white faced stood before him where no-one had been before; its face had a single crack running down its left side and empty sockets were eyes should have been.

"Reset," that lone word held more power than the child understood.

"I…I don't understand."

The world around him had morphed, with white, thick and almost chalk-like outlines around everything. The colours had drained into blackness and the figure became clearer. Two bleach white hands stood out from a black, body-shaped mass and moved in circular motions; Frisk couldn't see any limbs supporting these body parts. There was just an inky blob, tall and stickily thin, with a white head plopped on top. The head itself lacked a nose, eyelids and lips, or any other distinguishing features. Its mouth had kept the same eerie, smiling expression that verged on laughter.

"Reset…" The figure repeated, only its mouth hadn't moved, just like Chara.

The outlines surrounding the world kept zig-zagging, their pattern matching that of the static he heard. A bright yellow rectangle came into exist, formed bit-by-bit from pixels. Chunks were missing, which that made the word 'RESET'. It floated within arm's reach of Frisk, its glow drawing the child towards in with all the power of a hypnotist's' pendulum. Unware of what drove him to do so, Frisk held out his hand and pressed the flat button, which in turn lit up even more.

The figure that stood before him, as well as the weird outlined world, disappeared into nothingness. Frisk was sitting back in the armchair, the book on his lap and Chara muttering away in the back of his skull. Time seemed to have gone backwards, just by a few seconds, so that he could try and rectify his mistake. So that meant trying to not make Chara anger enough to take over their shared body by force. Frisk tried to understand just what had made Chara do that, maybe the fact that he didn't trust the other child?

'Are you even listening me?!'

"Well…I-I don't think Toriel would go back on what she said." Frisk said, "But…But we could at least try and figure out how to get out of here."

'I'd bet it has something to do with that blocked off stairwell.'

"We can probably c-check it out before she gets back."

'Then we'd better be quick about it!'

Frisk hurriedly paced to towards the hall, hiding behind the living room door to check for Toriel before leaving. With no signs of company, Frisk walked to the stairwell and examined the ribbon across the door with a great deal of suspicion. It must have been trapped, enchanted or something like that, Toriel could not have been so naive as to think that regular old ribbon would stop something going down. Frisk slowly grabbed hold of it, thinking he would be burnt or shocked; however nothing happened.

'I told you, it's just there make you think you shouldn't go.' Chara said, 'Honestly Toriel would never hurt a child…'

"You sound really sure of that."

'That's because I'm right!'

"But how do you know?"

'I just do, okay, now let's get moving.'

Frisk ducked under the ribbon and climbed down the stairs, which went on for what felt like forever. As he descended, more torched lined the walls and grew much brighter, until their flames looked ready to burn the house down. The hallway below was long as narrow, with walls that were covered in tiny cracks and small green sprouts growing through them. Tiny specks of frozen water had snuck in alongside the green, and Frisk knew the coldness of a snow flurry went he felt it.

As far as the boy knew, it was supposed to be warmer the deeper beneath the world's crust on was. The fact that Frisk shivered and shook with the growing drop in temperature completely went against this idea. Even the breath from his mouth had become a white mist; whatever was hidden down there must have been terrifying. In his mind Frisk pictured a core of pure, glacier ice rather than the lava his teachers had claimed to be there.

He came to the hallway's end and came face-to-face with a slab of stone. There was no door handle or keyhole he could have used to open the thing, nor any real clue that it was anything other than a dead end. Still Frisk made an effort to try and push the slab, the weight of his body barely half that of the cold mineral he tried to move. The object blocking his path was immoveable; however as far as Frisk could tell that had to be the only way out. Toriel hadn't kept anything hidden down there, so why else would she have tried to tape it off?

"My child, are you here?"

'Don't say a word!'

Frisk jumped out of his skin when he heard Toriel's voice from above, with only a moment's thought keeping his screech of surprise held in his voice. He tried not to breathe as the footfalls sounded right above his head; he thought that he could trick the monster into thinking he was somewhere else. Toriel paced about upstairs, opening doors to frantically search for the human boy before slamming them shut. She raced down the stairs when everywhere else had been searched.

Frisk kept trying to push the slab of stone out of his way. When yet more white block text flickered across his vision, he just became more frustrated as the message seemed to mock him. The word 'OPEN' kept flashing on the door, which he was trying to do, with every step from above making the text blink in and out of existence. He started hitting at the door, thinking that maybe someone on the other side would open it.

"My child, what are you doing down here," Frisk hadn't heard Toriel run down the stairs, "surely you know you should not be down here?"

"I...I want to go home." Frisk choked out the words and held back his tears.

"My child, I told you that I would take you back."

"B-but you w-won't, will you?" Frisk replied, "Because y-you think you can't trust me!"

"It is not you I do not trust." Toriel murmured, "You must understand, there are monsters in this place who will want to hurt you."

Toriel stretched out her arms and opened her palms with her fingers spread wide, from which two balls of flame were formed and floated in air. The heat flowing off them filled the hallway, turning freezing-cold into scorching in the blink of an eye. These flames split apart and multiplied a hundred times over, until the entire area was bathed in bright orange light. Frisk stared on petrified, his heart and its representation pounding in the background.

"Please, leave this place, my child." Toriel said, and Frisk could have sworn her eyes were glowing with power. "I do not wish to harm you."

"I…I need to get home," Frisk pushed down his fear as the fire's raged around him, "and you promised you would help me."

"Then so be it….my child." Toriel moved her hands through the air, controlling the fireballs, "If you truly wish to leave these ruins, then you will have defeat me."

The world around Frisk morphed once again, the thick chalk-like lines outlining the walls and the colours draining from everything. Even Toriel lost the lilac and blue of her robes, her person taking on a monochrome colour palette, transforming the scene into something out of a black and white film. The only thing that hadn't changed was the physical embodiment of Frisk's soul, which still remained a pretty, rosy red.

Frisk stood transfixed by all the changes, so much so that he only noticed the fireball flying at him when it made contact with his 'soul'. A stabbing pain similar to that which Flowery had inflicted on him shot through the boy, though it felt much less pronounced. Rather than making him want to double-over, he reacted with a yelp and jumping backwards, as though he had run his fingers over an open flame. The sight of more oncoming projectiles sent Frisk into a panic, and with no other choices, the boy had to duck and dodge the fireballs. They left trails of heat behind.

"Leave this place, my child." Toriel's eyes had become hard and focused, "you shall not pass through whilst I stand."

"Y-you promised you'd help me!"

"I am sorry my child, but I had too…now back to your room, or prepare to fight back."

Toriel summoned more of her magical flames, which formed two lines and spiralled towards the human boy. Frisk barely managed to avoid the majority of them, tripping-up and falling over in the rush to not get hit. The only thing he had to attack with was the sharp stick he picked up upon entering the Underground, which would most likely snap in two if he used it. And even if he had a useful weapon, he didn't want to attack her; maybe he wouldn't have to either.

More fireballs flew his way and the boy had to scramble from the ground, although he was still too late to outrun them completely. Two of them found their mark, sending the boy sprawling onto the ground once more and leaving Frisk with little energy left. His arms and legs were aching from the muscle outwards, and his eyes barely managed to keep open as the red heart on his chest pulsed too quickly to be healthy. His arms and legs shook of their own accord, and his eyes were starting to become wet with tears.

Toriel ceased her attack, waiting for Frisk to slowly get back to his feet. The fireballs orbited around her head like a halo, waiting for airy lift of her hands to command them. She kept balling and un-balling her hands; her feet inched towards Frisk and she had to stop herself from approaching the boy, going against her nature. She moved her hands once more and the fireballs streaked towards the human child, their flames flickering with no rhyme or reason. The only thing Frisk could do was watch with wide eyes as they homed in on him.

But the burning sensation did not come, and his soul had not been harmed. Instead of him, the fireballs parted and purposefully avoided the child, exploding brightly against the stone walls like fireworks. He looked to Toriel, every fibre of him ready to scream and run away in tears, only to feel sad for her. She had not moved from her spot by the stairs and her expression mimicked his, the tears barely held back. The fireballs wavered her tears began to slowly leak from her eyes, dancing in and out of existence.

"Please…go back to your room." She asked him, her voice unable to keep a stable pitch, "I promise that you will grow to like it here, I will care for you as best I can and you have already made a friend."

"I-it's nice here," Frisk nodded, "but I have to get home, I have promises to keep."

"If you plan to make it back to the surface, you will have to face other monsters," Toriel said, "some of them will have the means and desire to take your soul Frisk."

"Is it because I'm human?"

"Yes my child, the king of this place has sought after the souls of humans for a very long time." Toriel couldn't meet his eyes, "His name is Asgore and he will find out that you have fallen from the surface, if you choose to leave these ruins."

'I told you that the monsters were bad Frisk,' Chara's voice filled his head, 'it's like that flower said, it's kill or be killed.'

"W-will you tell me w-why?"

"My child, you remember the book I read to you, the one about the war and what happened afterwards?"

"O-of course, when the monsters lost we put up a barrier, so that you couldn't get back up."

'But I bet a human can, after all those wizards wouldn't have cast a spell that hurt them.'

"…That is exactly right, my child."

Frisk clamped his mouth shut; he hadn't actively given Chara control of his body, in fact he had not been aware Chara was trying to take control. The other child gave no response to his swift silencing, or an explanation as to why he took over for such a brief amount of time. However Frisk did not see any harm in what had happened, and maybe Chara just wanted their conversation to be over quickly.

"Asgore wants to...he wants to free all of the monsters and reclaim the surface." Toriel looked to the ground, "The only to do that is to gather the souls of any humans who venture to the Underground."

A tiny echo of the child's mind took note of this; Toriel said humans, so others must have fallen as well. And maybe they had all…

"I-is he guarding the barrier?"

"Again you prove yourself to be very smart, my child." Toriel laughed, though it lacked the chime of joy, "The barrier is hidden in his castle."

"I have to get home," Frisk said, "so that means that I'll just have to find a way in without getting caught."

The human walked towards the cold stone slab once again. Toriel made no move to stop him from doing so, lacking the energy and the intent to do him harm. However she did follow him, casting a shadow over Frisk as she stretched her arm forwards, placing her hand on the stone's smooth surface. The stone reacted to her touch, rumbling to life as Toriel's hand glowed with bright orange energy, which flowed into the slab.

"Please open."

The slab began to slowly move backwards, scarping across the ground with a heavy groan. Frisk's flesh went cold as the breeze filling the hallway became a gust. It then crept to the right side, revealing the world outside of the ruins with all the theatrics of a curtain opening for the part of a play. Hidden behind rocks and stone was a world covered in a blanket of snow, so white that it acted as a source of light.

"If you truly wish to leave, then I will not stop you…my child." Toriel moved aside, "You will always be able to contact me however, and I would suggest to put on a coat and scarf before leaving."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven: Into the Woods

Frisk had gone back to the 'spare' bedroom and found a red coat. It was a rather puffy thing, one that made him resemble a marshmallow, but it also had a matching scarf to wrap around the lower half of his face. He also found a red woolly hat with a cut little pom-pom on top; the mittens were hidden inside it. Obviously the previous owner had known cold weather, and had a fondness for the colour.

He also found a faded green backpack that was just the right size for him to lug around. It looked a little old and wore, with its shoulder straps fraying slightly at the end and thick black thread holding them together. The long zipper on its top jammed a bit as Frisk pulled it open, the rough materiel around its edge catching in the zip. Inside of the backpack was emptiness and more torn cloth; the silky inner stitching had begun to rip away, with bits of yellowed paper being the only contents.

Frisk zipped it back up and pulled the straps onto his shoulders. He searched the room for anything else he might have needed on the coming journey, such as extra clothing or perhaps a pair of wellington boots. Unfortunately he found neither of these things. Frisk also knew that he would need something to defend himself with; a stick probably was not going to get him very far, he needed something more substantial. However what exactly that would be escaped the boy, since the only thing in the room that may have counted was an umbrella.

'Go into the kitchen.'

"I don't think anything will be in there."

'Trust me.'

Frisk followed Chara's request, despite his lack of faith in the other child; after all he still remembered what happened last time he disobeyed Chara. That was if the incident did truly occur. The boy still doubted it slightly because he had never turned back time before, so what was it about the Underground that had changed that fact. He had considered asking Chara or Toriel about the 'reset' and the ghostly figure he saw, but if neither of them knew what he meant it would make matters worse. Toriel would never let him leave the Ruins, and Chara would either tease him relentlessly or try to use Frisk's powers itself.

The kitchen area was as cosy as the rest of the house, with white and honey brown tiled floor. The over had been placed at the back wall's centre and looked like a day never went by without it being cleaned. The kitchen worktop looked wooden as well, with a smooth and shiny surface that didn't have a scratch on it. And left out on a large china plate stood one rather large pie, it's curst baked to perfection and its sweet scent filling the room. Frisk's mouth watered and his stomach became to churn.

'It's been a while since you've eaten anything.'

"I-I'd better ask Toriel first…"

'It's not like she's going to eat it all by herself, she probably made it with you in mind.'

"M-maybe you're right."

Frisk's legs were moving before he knew it, walking over to the worktop and looking at the pie. It was far too big for him to eat alone; honestly it looked large enough for both him and Toriel to have some leftover for the next day. He opened the kitchen draws one by one and found a knife and a foil bag, he lacked gold and he hadn't a clue where he would find his next meal. Frisk cut himself two pieces, the flaky pastry leaving behind a small mess. He put on slice into a foil bag and then into his backpack; the other, much smaller piece of pie was eaten on the spot.

The surgery sweet taste coated his pallet and made it all seem better, satisfying his hunger but having a cloying effect. He should have asked first, Toriel wouldn't have minded. He quickly went to sink and began cleaning the knife, waiting for a few seconds to let the water get hot beforehand. However Frisk soon found himself outside the kitchen door; he knew the knife had been cleaned, and he had a vague memory of wanting to put it away. He couldn't remember which draw he'd put it in. Frisk had had this feeling before though, there were so many times when he was not sure if he'd shut the door or turned a light off.

Frisk walked back down into the once hidden doorway. Toriel waited for him by the opened stone door, her eyes downcast and her mouth hung into a small frown that turned into a half-hearted smile when he appeared. She moved towards Frisk and silently embraced him; her arms holding onto him for dear life and the soft fur on her face tickled his cheek. Frisk hugged her back as best he could, unable to think of what to say as time passed. Part of him did not want to leave.

"Please be careful, my child." Toriel said, "You must travel to Asgore's castle, and he will not make such a task so easy."

"I-I'll be fine, I promise." Frisk replied, another heavy lump swelling in his throat.

"I know my child…do you still have the phone I gave you?" Toriel seemed to become happier when Frisk showed her the phone, "That is good, this way you call me if you ever need any help."

"Thank you Toriel, f-for everything."

As Frisk left the ruins, he was almost blinded by the light from the 'outside' world. The thick snow shone much brighter than the torches in the ruins, with peerless white only broken by the bark of thin, spindly trees and their deep green leaves. His eyes eventually adjusted to the change and Frisk looked up, hoping to find the source of the heavy snowfall. He could see the flake cascading from above, but once again he found neither sky nor clouds. There was only darkness interrupted by flurries of frozen water.

"How is it snowing?" Frisk wondered aloud.

'Magic probably.' Chara replied, 'Or maybe it's got something to do with whatever the weather is like on the surface.'

"I-It can't be that cold."

'All right then, its magic.'

"But why would someone want it to snow so much?"

'How am I supposed to know, it's not like I've been here before!'

That ended the conversation rather quickly. The door did not drag itself closed as he left, inside it left stayed wide open and willing to welcome back at any time. Ahead of him laid a grey stone road that somehow remained untouched by the weather; he saw snowflakes float down towards it but they never landed. Rather the snowflakes dissipated into the air without ceremony, not melting on the ground or building up. Frisk wanted to stay there and gawk at this oddity until he received an answer.

'You're not going to figure it out by looking at it!' Frisk imagined Chara jumping about his skull in rage, 'Just follow the path and get moving.'

"And what makes you think the path is the right way to go?" Frisk asked, knowing how irritating he sounded, "It could be a trap."

'…Because other humans don't end up down here often.'

"But it's happened before, other than you and me."

'Yes,' Chara sighed in annoyance at his constant questioning, 'I don't remember exactly how many times, but there have been others.'

"So what happened to them?"

'What do you think happened?'

Frisk's mind sped like a hamster wheel as he considered all possible outcomes. Chara was still there, and no-one on the surface had even heard of the Underground before; no myths or legends about it. Those other humans either kept very quiet about their adventures, or they never made it back home to tell anyone. Toriel had been powerful without the intent to kill, imagining what would have happened if she'd wanted him gone was not pleasant. He thought that whoever Asgore was, he must have been big and powerful and frightening. That monster probably lived up to the word.

'No need to answer me, I know what you must be thinking.'

"How many human souls do they need then?"

'Does it matter, they're not getting yours or mine.'

"W-why didn't they take yours?" It only came into Frisk's thoughts as he said it, "You died down here, and you said it was a monster that killed you."

'I don't think they knew how to keep souls back then…or maybe I just managed to hide away before they could take mine.'

"But how could you even hide your soul, and why didn't they find you?"

'I. DON'T. KNOW.' Chara voice became horribly loud and ear-piercingly shrill, as well as being on the edge of hysterics, 'All I know is that I died down here and I want to get back home.'

"I-I'm sorry!" Frisk yelled, "I-I just thought maybe you'd know something else, or remember something."

'Well I don't, so stop asking.' Chara snapped back, 'Anyway, even if I did know why I wasn't found, it's not going to help you.'

"I just thought that hiding my soul would stop the monsters trying to take it."

'But you'd have to die first…or maybe not.'

Chara became soundless and that made Frisk become nervous. All the boy could hear was the delicate sound of falling snow, alongside the creaking of too-skinny branches as they bent under its weight. He could also hear another noise, as though something had begun digging up the snow and scrapping something across the ground beneath. Frisk guessed that someone shovelled the snow on occasion, given how much of it there seemed to be. Maybe the monsters had built a snowplough or something.

'It may not work, but I try and…switch our souls around.' Chara said, 'And that way yours would be safe.'

"But you'd b-be in danger then," Frisk replied, "so that doesn't really solve the issue, it just moves it around a bit.'

Self-sacrifice did not appear to be something in Chara's nature, and Frisk still remembered Chara taking over completely previously. No it sounded like a way for Chara to be rid of Frisk under the guise of protection, hiding Frisk away in the depths of their now shared mind. Even if the other's intent lacked such cruelty, Frisk had promised to get Chara back home, not to let him die even more. Or whatever happened when a soul was damaged, because the idea of a soul 'dying' was a concept more frightening than physical death.

'I suppose you have a point,' Chara regrettably agreed, 'you're not going to get far without me and the monsters getting my…soul might cause trouble.'

"We just need to work together and…"

Frisk halted when he saw something moving under the layers of snow. Although the object was mostly concealed, he could see something green stood out; it was a dark, rich green he remembered seeing once before. A pair of long, oblong leaves sprouted outwards as a stem emerged from the snow before another clump of it was shaken off to reveal too-yellow pellets and a cheerful face. Frisk immediately jumped back at sight of Flowey; that certainly explained how something without legs could move.

"Well it's really good to see you again, best friend!" The flowers smile widened the dimples on its cheeks far too cute, "So it looks like you finally made it out of the ruins…all without hurting anyone…or at least that's what has happened now."

"W-what are you talking about?" Frisk froze on the spot as the flower's smile became inhumanly wide, with the teeth turning sharp and uneven.

"Do you really think that you're good buddy Flowery doesn't know what you did?" The plant's voice had become split apart, too many pitches and tones speaking at once. "Because let me tell you something kiddo, I know exactly what you did, you killed her!" Flowery giggled, "You killed her but you couldn't deal with it, so you tried to 'make thinks right', didn't you?"

Frisk gave no answer to the plant's question and tried to run away. He turned around and sped off in the direction he came, thinking he'd be able to get back to ruins and beg Toriel for help. Flowery popped back under the snow with the horrible smile still plastered on its petal encircled face, as though it knew just what the child planned to do. Leaving a mole-hill like trail behind, Flowery succeeded in cutting off Frisk's path. It burst through the grey pathway with a strength that betrayed its frail form.

"You're not trying to run away are you buddy?" The plant inched closer, "It's not like there's anything you should feel bad about…"

"I didn't hurt Toriel!"

"Are you sure?" The flower tilted its head slightly, "It's just that I remember seeing you come this way before…you had her dust covering your hands."

"What do you mean dust?"

"Oh…silly little Flowery, getting things all mixed up!" Flowery laughed its high-pitched laugh, "You see monsters don't bleed like you fleshy humans do, and they don't leave nasty corpses behind to stink up the place when they die. They just go 'poof' and turn into dust."

"You mean l-like…like ashes?" Frisk knew he should not have been continuing conversation but something intrigued him.

"I guess you can think of it like that, if you want." The flower swayed side-to-side, "They leave rotting bodies behind, nothing to bury and nothing to prove they were alive at all, they just cease to without ceremony…hey I made that rhythm!"

"Have you seen a lot of monsters die?" Frisk wondered if questioning just how many the flower had killed would be more appropriate.

"Not really…just the same ones over and over again," For a second the flower's face lost the grin, which turned upside down into a more forlorn expression, "It gets a little boring after a while, but that's why you're here!"

"How can you see the same monsters keep dying?"

"Oh don't you worry, you'll understand it soon," the smile came back and had only gotten twice as long, "and then things will be interesting again."

The snapping of a twig caught Flowey's attention, making it spin around in a way that would have snapped the steam of a regular flower in two. Many smaller, thinner vines slithered from the ground; Frisk recalled seeing them covering the hole in the mountain cave, as though reaching for the sunlight. On hindsight Frisk figured that they were waiting for something to drag down. They were wiggling around in unison with Flower's stem, growing a little longer as it waited for the source of the noise. They retreated after nothing appeared.

"I should probably get moving." the flower muttered aloud before turning to Frisk, "I'll see soon best friend, but don't you worry I'm not abandoning you completely…I'll be keeping an eye on you!"

Flowery winked and descended back into the earth, leaving Frisk with far more questions than answers. If Flowery was telling the truth then Frisk had reset the timeline just before Chara took over, which meant the white-faced creature he had seen was also real. He did not understand how he had gained such a power or how to use it without prompting, but at least he knew he hadn't dreamt it up. How or why Flowery was aware of it but Toriel did not surprised Frisk; as far as he'd known she knew everything about the Underground. Then again if she had died whenever a reset happened…

He wanted to know more about whatever power he'd stumbled upon, but he did not know who to ask. However standing around in the snow wasn't going to help him, and his shoes were starting to get wet again. He should have asked Toriel if she more water-proof footwear for him. Still Frisk started to feel a smidgen less frightened with the knowledge that he had reset time, because maybe that meant he could not die. Maybe it meant that once he got once, he could reset time back enough to try and help his grandmother. As much as it sounded like wishful-thinking, it gave Frisk a reason to actually get home.

'Do you have any idea what that flower was talking about?'

"N-no, do you?"

'…I don't think so, maybe's it's just a crazy daisy.'

"Or maybe it's talking about the others who ended up down here."

Frisk didn't like lying, but he could not tell Chara anything about the reset. He had no idea how it worked or how to get it to work, so if Chara tried to wrestle control over their shared body again, Frisk might not have been able to fight them off again. Sure Chara only wanted to get home, but Frisk had no idea what sort of lengths they'd be willing to go to. And he did not want to find out.

The path ahead had no twists or turns, it just kept going forward through the trees. Out of the corner of his eye, Frisk saw shapes and shadows pass him by, one of them looking like a giant snowflake and another having a strange light hovering over its head. None of them were bothered by his presence enough to try approaching him, so Frisk returned the favour. And when the occasional snapping twig made him turn around to investigate, he tried to put it down to the sounds of nature. For the first four or five times it happened.

But each time he heard the noise, Frisk knew it had been too close for that. A jolt of lightening like fear rushed through his spine, as he heard what sounded like someone breathing in behind him. Sometimes he even caught glimpse of a streak of cheerful blue. Frisk had never been stalked in such a way before, though he had heard tales of other children that had been followed by hooded figures. Those stories never ended well, with the children in question said to have never been seen again. It didn't help that most of those stories took place in dark streets and tree-filled forests.

"Whoever's there," Frisk had had enough, "I-I'm not moving until y-you come out!

Frisk waited with baited breath, planning on standing his ground until whom or whatever was following showed themselves. But the longer he stayed still, the colder he became; without movement and something else to focus on, Frisk paid a great deal of attention to the temperature. Also the sogginess of his shoes had bled into his socks, making his toes start to go numb. Even his nose began to react, becoming stuffy and it became difficult to breathe through it.

"I-I know you're there!"

'We need to keep moving Frisk.'

Frisk stomped his feet and turned around, he couldn't stand there for any longer. He kept seeing the flashes of blue and his back seemed to be permanently on edge, as he anticipated a hand grabbing his shoulder and dragging him into the forest. Frisk's fear drove him to increase his pace again, going from fearfully slow to fearfully fast, making the trees blur before him as he tried to keep his breathing in time with his steps. His balance began to waver from left to right, but the sight of a nearby bridge gave Frisk a point of focus. If he ignored the snapping branches long enough, he may have made it.

But a quick glance over his shoulder meant Frisk wasn't paying attention to what laid in front of him; his foot hit a rock and sent the boy tumbling to the ground. He landed stomach first, his face smacking into the snow and blasting flurries of it into the air like confetti. Frisk had been lucky enough to only hit the softer layers. He stayed there for a time, his face hidden and his body doing the best impression of unconsciousness it could. Maybe if he looked boring, whatever was stalking him would give up?

"Hey, are you feeling okay kid?"

Frisk did not respond to whoever was talking, but he did listen. The person speaking sounded comical in a way, their voice deep and sleepy yet somehow upbeat. The monster's footsteps were very soft, so either they were extremely light or their footwear probably wasn't heavy enough to protect their feet from the cold. If they monster in question even had feet. Frisk knew they had stepped closer to him, he could practically feel their shadow weighing down on his back.

"You do know I can see you, right?" The monster said, "It is snow problem to me if you want to stay there, but it won't be ice for you if you do."

Frisk wasn't sure if he wanted laugh or groan at the puns flying his way, but he did not have the ability to simply ignore them. Frisk turned his head to the left and looked over his shoulder, clumps of snow stuck in his hair. The person standing behind him looked normal enough, even with their face hidden behind by the hood of their blue jacket. Obviously this had been the one following Frisk. Their pants were rather baggy but somehow not quite long enough to cover what he assumed to be white socks. They were also wearing slippers, which Frisk knew would have become ruined in such weather. The figure was just a head or two taller than Frisk, which seemed weird given how their voice sounded.

"I f-fell over," Frisk said lamely, "I-I not sure exactly w-where I am."

"I can get you somewhere safe," the person replied, "of course it's going to mean you have to get up off the ground, can you do that?"

"I-I think so," Frisk turned himself over and sat in an upright position, trying to shake the snow off in a way not unlike a wet dog trying to dry itself off.

"Hey, let me give you a hand."

"Thank you."

Frisk reached out and took the offered appendage. A long, drawn out raspberry emanated from the figure's hand and the padding of a whoopie cushion became obvious. However this was not the true surprise. The hand did not feel right, lacking the fleshly warmth he had expected; Frisk had thought maybe this monster would be like Toriel or maybe like himself. He was met with something much different, for though it had the shape and size of a humanoid hand, it lacked skin. It felt cold to touch and overly smooth, with each section of the monster's finger bones all too easy to identify. Wordless, Frisk looked at the hand and went pale.

What he held was certainly not of human origin, when the human was in a living state. The appendage consisted entirely of bone; bleached white and completely clean bone, from fingertip to arm and probably more. What Frisk had believed to be socks was also this; in fact the entire body of the monster seemed to be just a skeleton. A million different questions and fears buzzed in Frisk's mind, so of course he didn't pick his first one carefully.

"How are you talking?" Frisk had a basic understanding of things, but he understood that creatures needed organs to breath and talk.

"Excuse me?" A closer look what lurked under the hood revealed the face of the monster to be a skull, though the almost pin-prick 'eyes' were colourless.

"You don't have…all the things you need to talk, so how can you?"

"Like this," the monster's jaws moved, pearly teeth clanking together, "seriously it's not hard or anything."

"T-that's not what I meant a-a-and you k-know it." Frisk shivered and shook between words, the wetness of melting snow making him cold.

"Ice suppose there's no sliding anything passed you, is there?"

"It's not even icy here, it's just snow."

"Hey at least I'm trying to lift the mood," the skeleton monster proceeded to pull Frisk up from the ground, "but I guess the mood's a weighty."

"…Are you m-making up for me, b-because you're pretty b-big-boned yourself." Frisk couldn't stop his own words leaving his mouth, and for the umpteenth time he felt his own words kicking him in the teeth.

"Well, I guess you're hitting me right in the funny bone at this point," the monster said, "now follow me and we can get somewhere where you won't freeze."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve: A Skele-ton of Snow

Frisk followed the skeletal monster, staying a few steps behind him. Occasionally the monster would turn around to make sure Frisk was okay or maybe checking to see if the child had run off, with a smile on his face. Or as close to a smile as someone without flesh could get; what mouth he had managed to take on the correct shape. How the monster managed this was beyond Frisk's understanding, which seemed to be a theme since he tumbled into the Underground.

The idea of running away from the skeletal monster had crossed the child's mind, but it didn't really take. Frisk hadn't a clue where he needed to go, and continuing trudging through the snow without direction held the possibly of going nowhere. His current plan would eventually lead to him finding somewhere warm and probably safe; he might have been able to actually figure out how to get home. And if the latter did not happen, Frisk guessed that he'd be fed and sent on his way, or maybe one of the monsters would be after his soul.

'You cannot forget that.' Chara whispered, 'We know the king wants your soul…and every king has his knights.'

"I don't think this one's a knight," Frisk whispered, "he's got no armour and he's not carrying a sword."

'But he moved really fast, remember?'

"Do you really think that was h-him?" Frisk tried to hide the movement of his lips, "Sure whatever that was wore blue…but he looks so…"

'Toriel didn't look like she could control fire.'

The point stuck as Frisk remembered how hot those fired felt, even when their master had been actively trying not to hurt him. As harmless as many of the monsters appeared their use of magic made them all potential threats, if they knew he was a human. Besides Toriel, none of the other monsters seemed to be aware of what exactly a human looked like, so as long as Frisk didn't say anything he was safe. Pretending to be another monster had worked so far.

Frisk looked back at his own footprints in the snow. Even if he wanted to flee from the skeleton, he had no way of hiding where he would go and very little chance of being able to outrun him. Frisk looked back at the twig he still had from the ruins, limply hanging out of his coat pockets, and knew he didn't have any way to defend himself. All he could do now was follow the skeleton and hope for the best.

'You really don't know what you're doing.'

"Do you h-have a better idea?" Frisk whispered, only to shut his mouth rather quickly.

The monster had turned around to look at Frisk, those overly white teeth somehow still in the shape of a grin. Frisk gave a smile in return, his mouth stretched just a little too far for it to look honest, hoping that was the desired reaction. He understood by now that someone smiling at you warranted either a mimicked response, or an attempt to ignore them and hope for the best. He could not really ignore someone standing not too many strides away from him, at least not without coming across as purposefully rude.

"I take it you're not from around here?"

"I came from the ruins." Frisk replied; there was no need to tell the skeleton the whole truth, and he probably wouldn't believe the chid. "There a big stone door south of here…well it might still be open."

"But you're not from there, are you."

"Yea, I just said I came from the ruins."

"That's not what I meant kiddo." The skeleton's smile didn't waver, "But that doesn't really matter, since you don't seem to be causing any trouble."

"What do you mean trouble?"

"Oh you know the usual kind of stuff." The skeleton replied, "You're not trying to run off or making any more bad jokes-"

"-You started it."

"And you don't seem to want to hurt anyone, so we'll just keep moving."

Frisk did not have the chance to ask what the skeleton meant, part of him did not really want to. The silence between the pair felt heavy and awkward; the skeleton kept a decent pace, his strides only centimetre or so longer than Frisk's. The human child wanted something to fill the quiet hanging in the air, some kind of sound in the background to distract from the monster apparently helping him. Frisk only knew of one way to remedy this situation.

"So what's your name?" Frisk tried to hide his urge to wince.

"My name's Sans, so what's yours kiddo?"

"I-I'm called Frisk."

"Well Frisk, how'd you like it in the Underground?"

Frisk froze on the spot, with Sans staring at him as he waited for an answer. Looking into those brightly lit socket forced the human child to wonder just how powerful this monster was. He could see a faint blue tint to the skeleton's white 'pupil', twisting around the light like a flame in the wind. As off-putting as the 'eye' seemed to be, Frisk felt drawn to keep staring at it; the more he looked the more aware he became of a noise in the background. It sounded familiar, like static on the radio.

"Hey kid!" Sans snapped Frisk out of his trance, waving a bony hand in front of the child's face, "It's nice of you to notice my good-looks and all, but you're not really my type."

"I-I wasn't…that isn't…" Frisk searched frantically for the right words, only stopping when he saw Sans holding back a laugh, "That's not very funny."

"It worked though." Somehow the skeleton's grin grew wider though Frisk looked utterly unamused, his cheeks puffed up in anger, "Hey, come one kid it's just a tiny joke…you're just a little young for me," He ruffled Frisk's hair, "and maybe a little on the short side."

"You're not much taller than me!"

"Hey, I never said I lived up to my own expectations."

Frisk couldn't help but laugh a little, just how Sans managed to be as funny with such obvious jokes escaped the child. The fact that the monster was trying to show his sense of humour probably helped, it certainly made Frisk feel want to sink into the ground less. The fact that Chara hadn't pitched in anymore advice and warnings also lightened things up; the other child might have been trying to help, but they were not the most cheerful of company.

The pair had reached the outskirts of the forest, with the sea of tree thinning and parting as a new sight came into view. At first Frisk noticed a collection colours standing out against the colourless backdrop, with pretty pastel yellows topped by robust reds. The houses themselves had a storybook charm; their shapes were simple, bearing a resemblance to dollhouses than any actual house he had seen. They even had wooden window boxes filled with lively little flowers all standing in neat rows, something which should have been impossible in such cold weather.

There were a number of more durable plants growing around the village as well, with thorn-less thorn bushes hanging around the edges. Frisk had not noticed the difference in height between the ruins and the snowy village, until he saw the cliff's edge. Looking at the sky or maybe ceiling would have been a better word; all he saw were white and grey clouds that looked like oblivion. The clouds hanging above him seemed unusually heavy as well with their linings nearly black, only a few rays of light peeking through.

"Nice place isn't it?" Sans said, "A little chilly all year around, but it's a nice place."

"So it's always like this?"

"Yea…guess that's why it's called Snowdin."

"V-very funny, what's it's actually called?

"Snowdin, that's really what this place is called."

"So i-it's always been like this?"

"For as long as I can remember, yea…" Sans had turned away from Frisk and appeared to be looking for something, his eyes darting around the village, "It could've been different at some point, this bag of bones ain't that old."

Frisk had a number of questions left, including a query as to how old the skeleton monster truly was. Had the monster gotten so elderly than his flesh had writhed away; a skeleton weren't simply born, they were part of another living being. He also considered just how morbid his thoughts had become. Luckily Frisk had not been given the opportunity to ask his numerous questions, due to an oncoming figure running in their general direction.

"Sans, Sans why aren't you at your station?!" The monster's voice had a less relaxed tone to it, the words sharper and less drawn out.

The figure turned out to be another skeleton. Unlike Sans, this one was much taller, at least twice the height of Frisk's new friend and much longer in terms of its proportions. Its face certainly had more length to it, with the eye sockets having more of an oval shape to them. The teeth also had more height, but did not stretch into the lazy smile that Sans wore the majority of the time. Despite all this the other skeleton did not bother Frisk the same way that Sans did.

"Oh…that's my brother," Sans explained, "he's trying to find a human."

"R-really?" Frisk felt his heart beat just a tiny bit faster, "H-Has he found one yet?"

"Nope…so you'd better hide." Somehow Frisk swore the skeleton's smile grew a bigger, "There a very conveniently shaped lamp over there."

Frisk turned to where sans had been pointing and sure enough, there was a rather large bedside lamp (well maybe too big for that) stood in the snow. It didn't look like it had been out there too long, the snow hadn't gathered around it enough and the shade part of it seemed clean. However there was an odd dent in the lamp shade, one that somehow matched the curve between his nose and forehead. It also seemed to have an outlook remarkably similar to his own; suddenly he felt rather suspicious of Sans. However Frisk had no other option readily available, not without the risk of running into someone else and being caught that way. After all, Sans wouldn't tell him to hide only to reveal his location…would he?

'He just might,' Chara said, 'he could be having fun with just how much you trust him…after all it would be funny to make you hide in plain sight….maybe he wants you to look stupid?'

Frisk hid behind the lamp, trying to stand as still as he possibly could as the taller skeleton approached. He sucked in what little stomach he had and attempted to breath with as little movement and sound as possible, nearly to the point of holding his breath. Frisk noted the bright red cape the taller skeleton wore and the weird rounded armour, which seemed far too big to actually fit the wearier. The blue shorts and yellow belt made the entire outfit seem more like a costume than anything else, something to be worn for the sake of appearance rather than actual armour.

"Sans, what exactly are you doing here?" The taller skeleton seemed to loom over Sans, or at least tried to, he didn't look very intimidating.

"Oh you know, stretching my legs a little," Sans replied, "after all, standing around booth all day has made me…bone tired."

"Sans," The other skeleton screeched, "It's your post and you were barely been there an hour, so just how can you be tired already?"

"What can I say Pappy…I really work myself to the bone."

"Sans," again the taller skeleton screeched again, Frisk guessed this was just the other's response to Sans' bad puns, "this is not something you should joke about!"

"Ah come on Papyrus, where's your sense of humour?" Sans chuckled a little and Frisk felt the incoming joke, "Has your funny bone gone missing?"

"Oh my god Sans," Papyrus sighed in the most overdramatic manner Frisk had seen, "can you at least try to take this seriously?"

"I'm pretty sure you smiled at that one."

"I did not!" Papyrus insisted with his arms crossed and foot tapping against the ground, "Not that it would matter even if I was, because we still have a great deal of work to do."

"Wow, you're still really set on finding a human, aren't you?"

"Of course I am!"

Papyrus' declaration was met with his cape dancing dramatically in the wind, despite the fact that it barely counted as a breeze just a second ago. The taller of the two skeletons had his hand raised in the air in with a great deal of might; all he needed was a sword, and he'd have looked the picture of a knight. That and maybe some shiner armour, and a shield….a really cool helmet would have helped as well. Still it was the spirit of the thing that mattered. And Frisk could tell that this skeleton had the heart of a hero, though given how he hadn't noticed the human yet it was not an overly observant one. But he certainly had the dramatic flair for the job.

"Once I find a human, Undyne will surely make me a member of the royal guard!" Frisk could practically see the twinkle in his empty eye socket. "And then I will finally get the respect I deserve, I will be seen as hero, I will be greeted with a shower of kisses ever day, people will think I'm cool and they will want to be my friends!"

'I'm not sure if that's really egotistical or just plain sad.' Chara muttered, 'Heck maybe we should go for both and split it equally.'

"D-d-don't be mean." Frisk whispered back, "He has a goal in l-life…he has something to try and reach for."

'Really, you're telling me not to be mean when this guy is ordering his brother about for the sake of attention?'

"Sans is a bit…lazy I guess." Frisk murmured in reply, "And if he has a job as guard, he probably shouldn't have left his post."

'Sans is lazy and his brother has an ego the size of the moon, so they're both bad.'

"I r-really don' think t-that's fair…"

"So…have you found a human yet?"

Frisk went back to listening to the two skeleton brothers as they talked, with Papyrus yelling and jumping at times. Frisk hadn't met anyone who showed as much emotion as Papyrus; sure some of the other children at his school at been prone to screaming and getting upset, but not like that. And that Sans was so much calmer by comparison made Papyrus' outburst all the stranger, because he had trying to talk about grown-up things like jobs and yet seemed to be the more immature of the two. Somehow the taller skeleton's efforts to take things seriously just made him seem more childish.

"No…at least not yet," Papyrus admitted, "but I'm bound to find one soon."

"So what does a human look like?"

"Really Sans, you're just asking this now!"

"Well it's just that I forget, maybe you could remind me."

"Fine, human is…." Papyrus took a a few moments to think, digging up memories of pictures he had seen in a book. "They have two arms and two legs, a head atop their shoulders."

"So, they're like a lot of monsters down here?"

"No, I just haven't finished yet." The skeleton rubbed his chin with a gloved hand, "They have rather strange skin…a bit like a Froggit's but less green …and kind of different when you actually think about it." Papyrus struggled to explain exactly what he meant.

"So they're Froggits with a different colouring?"

"No Sans, they're not." Papyrus sighed, "The stand on their legs and have fur on their heads, which be any colour could can think of." He nodded to himself, remembering the books Undyne read, something called 'manga'.

"Well maybe that lamp will help you?" Sans suggested.

Frisk felt a surge of anger at Sans, which only doubled with Chara's commentary running in the background. However the child kept hidden in his hiding spot; if he ran the taller of the two would surely see him, and Frisk knew he probably wouldn't be able to outrun the pair of them. He waited for Papyrus to notice him, however the taller skeleton did not even bother to look anywhere hear the lamp. In fact he seemed to be more interested in giving his brother the most annoyed expression possible, which looked surprisingly irritated for someone without flesh to make.

"Just how is a lamp going to help?" Papyrus glared at Sans, "Stop being lazy and get back to your post!"

"Ah come Papyrus don't be like that, I've being doing a ton of work….why could say it's a skele-ton!"

"Sans," Papyrus screamed, "enough with the jokes!"

"Someone is really putting their back-bone into their job."

"Can't you take anything seriously?" Papyrus bemoaned.

"I pretty sure I saw you smiling again." Sans replied, "Look I'll get back to my post and if I see a human, you'll be the first to know."

"Alright," Papyrus nodded before leaving, his footprints creating a trail in the snow.

"You can come out now." Sans said when he was sure his brother wasn't in earshot.

Frisk stayed behind the lamp a bit longer, his cheeks slightly reddened by the cold and this own temper. When he finally appeared from behind the Lamp, Frisk to look at Sans and simply tried to walk past the skeleton without a word. This didn't work as well as he had planned, since Sans just kept blocking his path like some kind of golem. However Frisk knew how to be persistent and kept trying to avoid looking or speaking with the skeleton, who seemed just as determined not to let Frisk leave. It seemed funny, given how little effort Sans appeared to be into thing.

"Can you stop looking down for a sec?" Sans asked, sighing when Frisk refused to answer. "Come on, I knew he wasn't going to look at the lamp."

"S-So why tell him to look at it?" Frisk huffed, "Why tell me to hide behind a lamp and then point it out to s-someone who's l-looking for m-me, and why act like you didn't know I was a h-human when we met?"

"Wow, that's a lot of question…you looked kind of antsy, so I didn't want to scare you." Sans explained, "And I guess I wanted to show you that no-one around here is scary either."

"Excuse me?"

"My brother's a nice guy…sure he's a little over zealous when it comes to his job, but he's pretty swell if you get to know him."

Frisk finally looked up, looking Sans in the face and halting his attempts to ignore the monster. The monster was no longer standing in Frisk's way, but was instead stood instead what looked like some sort of check-point. The booth itself had been made from a pale type of wood, with a pointy roof and nothing much instead of it. No monitors for cameras, or lowering bars to stop people from walking passed the booth. Indeed it seemed rather ineffective in regards to security. The only thing that might have stopped unwanted intruders would have been Sans.

"So this is your job?" Frisk walked up to the booth, just tall enough to see over the counter. "You stand here and wait for people?"

"Well…yea, it gets a pretty boring." Sans had taken two plastic bottles from behind the counter, one red and the other yellow. "Why you'd think I took a walk?"

"I t-thought it was because y-you wanted to stretch your legs?" Frisk replied, "I mean that's what you t-told your brother, and I can't see why you'd lie to him."

All Sans could really do was shake his head a bit. He wasn't his reasonability to explain to the child what a 'little white lie' was, and why it had to be used here and there; he didn't want to give the kid any ideas anyway. Sure he had promised to the person on the other side of the door that he would take care of them, but he had already kept that promise a thousand-fold. Not that he begrudged Toriel of asking something so simple of him, it's not as though she knew any better. No, he had the knowledge and he still refused to use it…

"It's a little bit complex for someone as young as you to understand."

"But lying is a sin…"

Sans could have sworn he saw the child's face change, the image of rosy cheeks and a too long smile bleeding over Frisk's rather plain face. The skin had gone a horrible pale colour, like wet paper with red maker plastered onto the side. His first instinct had been to lash out at the child, despite his promise. What good would keeping the child safe be when everything else could easily be ruined.

"What did you say?" Blue energy flared from his left eye.

"I-I said I t-thought l-lying was bad a thing."

Sans calmed her powers. The human child's voice sounded small and frightened, like he was about to start crying. None of this was helped by the sheer coldness of their surroundings, with the child's nose becoming blocked just that much quicker from the upset. Sans hated when that happened; Frisk hadn't done anything wrong and in all truth that statement could stay correct for a long time. And skeleton being the monster that was did the only thing he thought he could do to try and lighten the situation a little bit.

"Sorry about that kid, I thought you said something else." Sans didn't have any other explanation for his outburst, "Here, you're probably a by hunger by now."

"You have hotdogs at your post." Frisk took the bun snack from the skeleton. "How'd you keep them cooked?"

"Well, would you believe me if I say Magic?"

"I guess, that's always the answer down here"

"Well, it's a magical place down here." Sans held back a chuckle, "Why you could even say that this is the most magical place on earth!"

"…Am I supposed to have heard that before?"

"Never mind kid," Sans shook his head, "not everyone will get that job, especially not if you've ever heard of a guy called Walt."

"I don't think I've heard of him before."

"Of course you haven't." Sans took another hotdog from behind the counter and started covered it in ketchup, "So passed here in Snowdin, and you should be able to get to the Hotlands from there."

"Is everywhere around here named after weather?" Frisk asked, "And why would I want to go there in the first place?"

"Call it a hunch kid." Sans wasn't going to explain it to him, not until he knew how things were going to turn out, "Anyway wherever you're going, just be careful and…can I ask you a favour, you know my brother's a good guy and he's always wanted to see a human before so maybe you could introduce yourself to him?"

"He wants to capture me, remember." Though Frisk did agree that Papyrus seemed harmless enough, much like everyone else he had met so far.

"Will you at least think about it?"

"Only if you promise he won't be able to take me to the king."

'He tried to trick you once already,' Chara said, 'and he tricked his own brother, there's no way you can trust his word.'

Chara may have been right, but he needed to give Sans a chance. It might have been quicker if Frisk did allow the skeleton to bring him to King Asgore; minions always knew the quickest way to their ruler. He remembered all those books and TV shows where the just that happened. On the other hand Frisk knew he needed to avoid fighting, he had no weapon to speak and the king probably held some incredible power. That's why he was King. So Frisk had to look for something, or maybe find a way to sneak into his castle without being caught and then get passed the barrier. And Sans had talked about there being a 'Hotlands' he would have to go through, which he thought would be an improvement to the cold.

"I suppose I can promise that much," Sans agreed and held out his hand, "my brother will not turn you over to the king."

"Okay…if I see him I'll introduce myself."

Frisk shook the skeleton's hand and went on his way, walking down the path into the village with a bit more haste than before. He planned to try and avoid Papyrus; if he didn't see the taller skeleton, he couldn't introduce himself. The snow smoothed out as he got closer to civilisation, its surface looking a little too neat to have formed naturally. Frisk also encountered another monster in the village. It looked like a giant rabbit, with fully white-furred ears and a small pink nose. The long yellow dress she wore shouldn't have kept her warm enough to survive such temperatures, until Frisk considered that she had fur. However that wasn't the weirdest thing about it all…

"Oh, this is my little cousin." The rabbit monster explained, probably use to odd looks, "He has a habit of running off you see, so when he goes out, we need to keep him on a lead."

 _Author's Note: Been a while, but now I should be back on track without interruption, at least for a long time. Life has been a bit difficult for a number of reasons, between University and a couple of issues at home I've been left with little time to focus on fanfiction._


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen: A Village of Snow

None of the monsters seemed aware of Frisk's status as a human. As he walked through the town, they greeted him with friendly waves and a few hellos, alongside the statements about how wonderful the weather had been. Toriel and Sans had both known he was a human, with the former admitting to seeing other humans in the Underground before. So why didn't these monsters also know?

It became apparent that Frisk had little to no knowledge of the world he had landed in, and that he couldn't keep bumbling about. Sans had mentioned a place called the Hotlands and Toriel had said something about a castle; Frisk lacked any kind of clue as to where either of these places were. He could probably ask someone for directions, but then came the question as to why he wanted to go there. Frisk was almost certain that getting into the castle would be extremely difficult, with guards marching around the parameter with keen eyes for intruders. Just thinking about it left Frisk feeling lost and utterly alone.

"Hey kid, are you alright?"

Frisk spun around to address the voice, which held a pitch and tone not too different from his own. The monster speaking to him also appeared to be a child, if their similar heights were any indication. The monster child had a reptilian look, with skin the colour of an orange and pale yellow ridge-like spike atop their head. The child's face was rounded, with large eyes and a pair of too-large teeth peeking from beneath their upper lip. Stranger ye, the monster child lacked arms, or any arm-like appendage.

"Y-yes, I'm f-fine, thank you."

"Really, you seem kind of nervous." The monster child turned their head with curiosity, "And it's a little late for you to be out alone."

Frisk hadn't paid much attention to the time, the clouds blocking most of the sky from his view. He assumed that living underground meant that blue skies and stars were non-existence; however a look upwards revealed a plane covered in a deep orange hue. Sparkles of what he could only think to be starts were gradually coming into sight, as the world become darker, with midnight blue creeping in from the edges.

Frisk himself felt weary, with the cold sapping him of most of his energy. His arms and legs felt stiff, to the point where he wondered if maybe they had frozen, and his gloved fingertips felt a little numb. His thoughts turned to the fireplace in Toriel's home, where he could sit down and warm him. He then thought of home; though it lacked a real fireplace, the electric one created heat and his grandmother used to be hot coca when snow fell. It made Frisk feel miserable remembering.

"Do you need a place to stay?"

'Ask him how we get to the Hotlands.' Chara whispered, 'If we go there, we can figure out how to get to the castle quicker.'

"T-that would be n-nice," Frisk replied, much to Chara's annoyance, "but I also need to get to the Hotlands."

"Well it'd be best to head over there tomorrow," the monster child replied with a yawn, "you should probably go home for now."

"W-well…the thing is…" Frisk some kind of explanation, "I-I'm meeting my parents over in Hotlands!"

"That's pretty weird," the monster child's eyes widened a little, "Why aren't they over here with you?"

"I-it's a bit complicated."

The monster child did not ask any further. They had never heard of parents leaving their child behind, however the monster child had not seen or heard of many things. They had never seen another child such as Frisk before, though their parents had mentioned that some of the monsters in other areas were different. The monster child stood on the balls of their feet, moving back and forth as they considered what to do next. They thought about bringing Frisk home with them, their parents had said they could bring friends home. Though Frisk wasn't technically a friend yet…

"I can take you there tomorrow," the monster child said with glee, "If you need a place to stay in the meantime, there an inn over there," the monster child motion to the right with his head, "or you could-"

"I think I have the money to go to the inn." Frisk answered quickly, "We c-can meet back here in the m-morning right?"

"Right," the monster child agreed, "and the people who own the inn are pretty nice, I'm sure they'll give you a discount if you ask!"

"That b-be nice." Frisk stood in silence for what he knew to be too long, "I-I forgot to ask before, what's y-your name?"

"Most people around here just call me Kid," The monster child replied, "you can call me that if you!"

"W-well thank you for the help…Kid." The nickname sounded strange on his tongue, with the monster child probably being about the same age as him. "My name i-is Frisk."

"It's been great meeting you Frisk!" The monster child jumped on the spot in joy, "I'll see you here in the morning."

"Yea, you sleep well!"

The monster child ran off, toppling into the snow. Frisk had started rushing towards them to help the monster up; he believed that lacking in arms would make getting up impossible. However the child seemed far more flexible than Frisk thought possible. The child managed to bend his back in half and pulled themselves up, straightening up and continuing their sprint home. It was only after the other child had disappeared over the horizon, Frisk and Chara had the same realisation.

'You forgot to ask him what time you're going to meet here.'

"I-I know," Frisk sighed, "maybe I n-need to get up earlier tomorrow."

'I can do that.' Chara suggested, 'You need to be rested for the journey ahead.'

"…Won't I s-still be tired?" Frisk started walking to the inn, "M-my body will still have to be a-awake and moving to meet with them."

'I'm not sure,' Chara answered after thinking it through, 'I don't know how feeling tired works, so you could be right…but it's worth trying isn't it?'

"I-if I'm not feeling good tomorrow, sure."

Frisk did not want to show any indication of making a choice. Saying yes might have meant Chara taking control over him at any time during the next, because Frisk wasn't sure how this possession worked. A negative answer either meant letting Chara know that Frisk didn't the other child, as well as making them angry. As long as Chara believed Frisk to be on their side there were no issues; however Frisk knew better than to trust them completely.

Frisk opened the bright red door that the monster child had indicated to be the inn. He instantly felt warmer, as the light from a lit fireplace encompassed the room with a soft glow. Its heat blanketed every inch of the entrance and took away the harshness of the outside world, melting all his worries away. The deep red armchair near the fireplace looked very cosy; it most certainly would have been cosy enough to curl up in. He just knew the cushions were soft enough to rest his head on.

The rabbit-woman must have noticed where Frisk was looking, because she had a steaming cup of tea on the counter as he approached. She had placed the cup right to a bell, and opened up a ledger before grabbing a pen out of another china cup. That one had a long crack running down its left side and a chip on its rim. The pens were worse for wear, with numerous bite marks chewed into their ends and even one or two on their lids. If Frisk had looked close enough, he might have noticed the small blueish smudge on the rabbit-woman's mouth.

"What're you doing out this late kiddo?" The rabbit-woman asked as she adjusted her purple sunhat, "It's a cold on tonight, why you should be wrapped up in bed."

"I-I need a room for t-the night."

"Why's that?" The innkeeper asked, her ears curving slightly and her mouth going into a thin line, "Did you get locked out your house or something?"

"N-no," Frisk gulped, "I-I's just I'm meant t-to be meeting my parents over at the Hotlands, but i-it's too late to go there."

The rabbit-woman pondered inquiring into this some more. She had never heard of any responsible parent leaving their child behind to catch up with them; there had been times where parents had gone away for work or alike, leaving the child at home. Once or twitch a child had tried to follow their parents to this destination, leading to all sorts of problems. In her mind, Frisk was a little too young to be left alone, which it completely out of the question for him to go off wandering on his own.

"Well…" She drew out the word out, letting it roll on her tongue, "I do have a room left over, and I doubt anyone else will be looking for a room at the time."

"I think I have enough money for a night." Frisk started rummaging through his coat pockets for the specks of gold Toriel had given him, "How much is it?"

"Hmmm…" The innkeeper rubbed her fluffy chin, "It is going to go unused tonight and it is freezing out there…what you do say we make a deal?"

"That's good, I think."

"It is," the innkeeper ducked behind the counter, before appearing again with a shiny golden key, "I'm going to let you have the room for free."

"Thank you-"

"But," the innkeeper held up her hand in a stopping motion, "you have to come to me before ya leave."

The innkeeper threw the key to Frisk, which he managed to catch with ease. He looked down at it, his eyes fixated on how the firelight bounced around its surface, turning the gold colouring paler. There was a bronze keychain attached to the key, and a small tag hanging for the keychain itself. Someone had written on it with a key black maker, the number '45' standing out against the white paper background. Below that were the words 'one bedroom room'.

"What if you're not awake?" Frisk asked.

"Chances are if I'm not awake, you shouldn't be either." The innkeeper folded her arms, "You've been up too long as it is, and ya need to get your sleep!"

"B-but I need to get to the Hotlands!"

"And you can do that, after you're rested well." She took a deep breath in, "Look I understand that you want to get moving sharpish, so if I ain't up when you got to leave…just knock on the door to room 00."

"Which one is that?"

The innkeeper brought up half the counter-top, folding it in onto itself. She looked a little bit like the rabbit monster in the too-yellow dress, but taller and much fluffier, with fur somewhere between grey and brown. She wore a dress that matched that of her summer hat, with a deep purple ribbon wrapped around her waist and a pretty bow she had knotted herself. Her movement appeared much different than the paler rabbit-monster; she didn't walk in the same elegant and dignified manner. Instead she hopped.

She led Frisk towards the entryway room with the fireplace. He felt the fire's heat increase as he walked just a couple of steps closer; he could hear the wood on the fire crackling as it burnt, embers chewing on charred bark. He also saw a pastel blue vase of flowers, which looked as though they had been some kind of rose before their petals had fallen off. Above that hung a large, painted portrait with a deep oaken frame; the painting revealed that the inner had a large family with many siblings. And if the smaller rabbit-monsters in the picture were anything to go by, she also had a number of children.

"It's this one here." The innkeeper stood in front of as plain wood door, the numbers '00' nailed into it with iron representations. "If I ain't up before you go, you give this door a couple of knocks."

She demonstrated, balling up one of her hands and lightly hitting the wooden door with it. The knock echoed through entryway and a handful of voices answered from the other side, replying with 'who is it' and 'it must be mum'. The door creaked open and Frisk saw one of her children, a fluffy rabbit-child with ears that were much disproportionately large. The child looked at Frisk, eyes never leaving the child they had not seen before and they tried to figure out exactly what Frisk was.

"Honey, I thought I taught you not to stare at strangers." The child turned their head as rabbit-woman spoke, "It's not a nice thing do."

"Sorry mum," the child looked back at Frisk, "sorry."

"T-that's o-o-okay." Frisk murmured; he hadn't really minded the other child staring, mostly because he had been doing the same thing.

"Right, well you know where to go if you wake up early," the innkeeper smiled at Frisk, "now head off to bed and go sleep, and tomorrow we can get everything sorted out."

The innkeeper walked Frisk to his room, guiding him through a long corridor of closed doors that looked the same. He could hear the soft sounds of sleep-talk and the thunderous sounds of snoring, which said a great deal about the culprit's nose. Room number 45 was situated right at the end of the corridor; there were two other rooms located on either side of it. Frisk took out the key the innkeeper gave him and stuck it into the keyhole, turning it with a small 'click'.

The door opened to reveal a compact but cosy room, with walls covered in green wallpaper with tiny decorative vines painted on it. It had a bedside table with a lamp and a bottle of water sitting on top, a small closet left of the table and a bathroom to the right. In the room's centre was the bed; it had a deep green sheet and two well fluffed pillows waiting to have a head rested on them. The bed itself had been meant for an adult, being at least twice the length of Frisk and much wider than him.

"Alrighty then, you settle down and get some rest." The innkeeper chimed as she left, "And remember to just knock on my door if you need anything!"

"T-thank you…for t-the r-room and f-for-"

"Oh don't you worry about it sweetie," the innkeeper patted his head, "I don't mind helping folks out from time to time."

The innkeeper left the room, closing the door behind her whilst being certain not to slam it shut. Frisk was left standing on the fuzzy carpet, trying to understand what had just happened and why. People had been nice to him before, but the innkeeper had been nice to the point of almost overwhelming, A free room and a demand that he see her before leaving made Frisk feel cared for, though not nearly as much as he had when Toriel had helped him. And suddenly Frisk found himself looking for his phone.

'You're not actually thinking of phoning her are you?'

"I don't see why n-not, Toriel is probably really worried around m-me."

'And she's going to be worried about you when you get to Hotlands, and when you've finally gotten back home.' Chara firmly stated, 'If you try to keep in contact with her, you're only going to make things worse.'

Frisk had not thought of that. However he kept picturing the kind-hearted monster worrying over him, unable to relax at the thought of what would happen to child she had let go. In the darkness of the room, Frisk's face was bathed in a dim light as he switched the mobile phone on, which gave a cheery tune as it awakened. After fiddling with menus and setting, Frisk finally found Toriel's number and let his thumb hover the button with the green phone; Chara had a point, he shouldn't try reach to someone he would not see again.

On the other hand Frisk needed to tell her things were going well, he had to make sure Toriel wasn't worrying over him needlessly. And if hearing her voice put his mind at ease a little, well then it was defiantly because Frisk simply had concerns about her wellbeing. Sure he missed her a little and the idea of staying with her hadn't sounded too bad, but he had a life on the surface and a promise to keep. Though Frisk had no idea what life awaited him back on the surface, he had liked his school and the place he had lived.

"Hello, who is it?" The voice on the other end sounded clear as crystal.

"I-it's F-Frisk," he replied, "I j-just wanted to tell you to say I'm d-doing okay."

'You are such baby." Chara droned, 'I don't think you even been away from the ruins for a day yet, and you still need to call her.'

"Oh, that is wonderful to hear my child!" Toriel's smile could be heard in her voice, "Where are you now?"

"There's an inn in Snowdin." Frisk said, "The owner let me stay the night for free, s-she's really n-nice."

"I think I have meant her before." Toriel murmured, "Do you know where you have to go next?"

"I need to go to t-the Hotlands, I t-think."

"That is correct." Toriel hummed to herself, "It might do you well to read some of the book found in the local library before you leave though."

"I w-will…thank you."

"You do not need to thank me, my child." Toriel replied, "I only wish I could help you more…"

"I-I'll be fine, I promise." Frisk let loose a long yawn, "I-I'll phone when I get to the Hotlands, okay?"

"Of course, sleep well my child."

The phone call ended with a short click, again leaving the child with thoughts. He did not completely understand why Toriel wanted him to go to the library, though he had some ideas. On the surface he had visited a library frequently, hunting for books he needed to read and flipping through the various leaflets dotted around the tables. There were always bus schedules and information on local clubs or groups in these leaflets, with strings of printed numbers found at the back of these shiny pieces of paper. Maybe she wanted him to get a bus there?

'There aren't any buses down here.' Chara scoffed at his idea, 'This place is too crammed, and can you imagine a bus trying to drive across the snow here?'

"It'd be a bit slippery." Frisk agreed, "But people have to drive across the snow all the time, it wouldn't be that bad."

'Have you seen any roads around here?' Chara shot back, 'No, well that's because no-one drives down here.'

Frisk hadn't known how to respond, mostly due to the fact that what Chara had said held truth. There weren't any cars or other types of vehicles to be seen. Frisk got up and looked through the closet, where he found a pair of pyjamas hanging up from a coat hanger. They looked about the right side and would probably be far more comfortable to sleep in then the thick coat he was wearing; he also noted another pair of clothes there. At least he wouldn't be travelling around without a change of clothes.

Having gotten changed Frisk flopped onto his back, his head sinking into the large, soft pillows like a hot knife through button. He shifted a little before crawling under the covers and cocooning himself in them, wrapping the around himself as tightly as he could. Frisk sunk into the mattress and tried closing his eyes. Despite his eyelids being closed and the warmth of the comfy bed, Frisk could not seem to drift off into sleep. He tried snuggling down even more, wriggling left to right and not letting his eyes open a single bit. None of it worked and he just laid there awake.

Night-time in Snowdin was peaceful, with the soft sounds of snowfall mixing with the whispers of sleeping monsters. Back at home on the surface, Frisk was used hard rainfall smashing against the windows and the occasional airplane flying passed. He had slept well with the grandmother's radio playing in the background; she rarely managed to stay awake long enough to turn it off before her show ended. Frisk missed the conversations about weather and hourly news updates, at least they were proof someone else was still awake. The near silence was unnerving.

He twisted in the covers until there were no more covers to twist, having wrapped himself up completely, but he still couldn't sleep. Frisk tried focusing on his breathing as he inhaled and exhaled, his mind still refused to allow him to find rest. Frisk tried counting sheep and naming ever capital city he knew in alphabetical order (he didn't know many so it did not take long), but none of it helped in the slightest. Something in his brain just kept ticking away.

'Alright, what's wrong Frisk,' Chara asked, having said nothing for far too long, 'why can't you just go to sleep?'

"I don't know," Frisk whispered, "I'm trying to sleep, but nothing's working."

'You're not supposed to try to sleep, it just happens!'

"But I can't sleep."

'Well then something has to be keeping you from sleeping,' Chara's mask-like face appeared in Frisk's mind, 'so tell me what's wrong.'

"I-I…I don't know," Frisk could not understand the heaviness in his stomach, "something doesn't feel right."

'It's probably that you're not used to this place.' Chara tried to brush off his worries, 'You were too tired to even think about it when you were in the ruins.'

"I get that…but I…I don't know what's g-going to happen when I get home."

'Frisk, everything is going to be fine.'

"But I've…got no-one to go back to." It hurt to let those words leave his throat, leaving a horrible bile-like taste on his lips. "Where am I going to go?"

'I don't have the answer to that Frisk,' Chara replied, 'I didn't have waiting up there for me either...and I don't remember ever having someone there for me.'

"I'm sorry, I-I didn't k-know."

'I wasn't saying too…whatever, we can figure it out when we get back to the surface, so please go to sleep.' Chara said, 'Whatever happens…I promise I'll try to help you as long as I can.'

For once Chara's words made Frisk feel at ease. He shifted and settled down, closing his eyes once more and letting the darkness overtake him, his thoughts gradually coming to a stop. Again Frisk found himself waking in a strange run, standing just outside a version of Snowdin where most of the colour had been drained. The white of the snow became almost blinding and the grey of the sky had turned into looming storm. The pretty pastel colours were gone, as were most of the monsters.

The only monster Frisk could see looked like Kid. The monster child didn't appear to notice Frisk and walked away, his feet not leaving any prints in the snow. The child's orange and yellow had dulled a great deal, leaving behind a pale and almost sickly complexion that was more comparable to an old photograph. Frisk followed the monster child, looking over his shoulder and observing that he too did not leave footprints behind. He knew he must have been dreaming.

The world around him buzzed with the faint sound of muted static. He also heard far off voices, their words hushed and half-formed; Frisk could not make sense of them and Chara did not appear to be paying attention. However the snippets of conversation didn't sound very important, much like the bits and pieces he heard when walking around his town. A comment or two about someone else's house, an a few snippets of thoughts of the future that Frisk had not right to hear.

The chase he had been led on stopped in place about a mile away from the town, to a scene that had been frozen in time. Sans and Papyrus were there, standing a little bit away from an iced over lake with Papyrus having been left hanging in the air mid-way through a jump. Sans didn't look any different from usually, honestly the skeleton never seemed lively even when in motion. Frisk saw a version of himself there as well, standing on the other side of the lake with what resembled a crystal ball balanced on his head. None of it made sense.

"Wait for me!" Frisk tried to keep as the monster child ran ahead.

Frisk ran passed the scene in pursuit of the monster child. He was led back to the edges Snowdin, by a long outcropping of tall trees with thin, green needles and thick, dark bark. Here he discovered another frozen scene; another Papyrus stood in front of another Frisk, as if to stop the child from leaving. However the taller of the skeleton monsters had a sort of smile of his face. Whatever the case may be, Frisk did not pay much attention to the scene, instead trying to keep up with the monster child.

The long stretch of trees blended into each other, none of them having any obvious markings or other distinguishing features. This path Frisk followed lack an ending, with the monster child constantly within sight but always out of reach. Every time he got within arm's reach, the monster child somehow knew and ran quicker, leaving Frisk to keep playing catch-up. The only consolation to any of it was that Frisk never felt tired; his heart rate hadn't increased and his lungs were never out of breath.

However the next scene he saw made him stop in his tracks. Frisk was facing Papyrus again, only this time the skeleton lacked a body, with his head lying in the snow. A pile of dirty white ash sat next to the head, a few grains of it stopped dead in the air. Papyrus seemed to have been in the middle of saying something, his mouth hung open as a word or maybe a sentence tried to escape. Frisk looked at his double and saw something that was not entirely himself; his skin had paled a great deal and a sharp object, a knife, was clenched in his right hand.

"Do…you….understand?" As words formed in his mind, a jumble of icons appeared in front of his face, "You…can… and must…stop this."

The colour-drained monster child appeared before Frisk as well, dull eyes staring at him without blinking. And behind this child stood a stiletto that risk recognised, from pale face and hands to the tall black robe (or perhaps body). The figure looked much thinner than what Frisk had seen before, as though trying to match the monster child's form like a shadow. Frisk felt the figure's eyes looking into him, the two dark holes suddenly sparking to life with a light so bright it hurt to look at.

"How do…what are you?" The words tumble from Frisk's mouth.

"I…am the man…who speaks with hands…" The words are in his brain as the symbols appear before his eyes, "And I...have seen…many things."

"But how can I stop any of this?" Frisk asked, "I don't even know what's going on."

"By waking…end up…"


End file.
